Queen and King
by Skepsis Forever
Summary: After Early's unwanted visit, River realizes she needs to get better. Her calculations point to retrieving missing parts from others and increasing her abilities. But will the crew of Serenity understand who the King really is and why he is useful?
1. Useful

A dark night on a semi-barren planet. She sneaked out easily when she knew most would be asleep. She slithered quietly through the shadows and darkness. She remembered her calculations and knew this would be the only way, at least for start. She heard the cry in The River, knew her fate was sealed, knew it was akin to destiny, by all accounts it had already happened. Yet she was beyond destiny, beyond the River, one extra or one less move, one change in demeanor, one word or a thousand, and the future would change. She had no choice. She had thought about this before. It was either this girl or one of the crew, and she couldn't live with herself if she had to take from Mother and Captain Daddy. That's not to say she didn't think about it, that she didn't almost go through with it, but at the end, she controlled herself, her urges to be new and for self preservation.

This one though, she would owe her. She would be living on time bought to her. And she'd stop some takers from taking anymore. It was necessary, she kept repeating to herself. Of course, she could just have taken someone off the street that she would found the most useful, but for this experiment, this subject was deemed appropriate. What the Academy wanted from her, docility, yet strength, obedience, yet free thinking. Maybe if she could take those parts in her... maybe...

She stopped at the edge of the warehouse, just in time to hear the tidbits of information from the greater dialogue that she already knew would be discussed days ago.

"Look guys, they just sent me with the stuff. I wouldn't skim you or anything, you know that. I'm up to my elbows in shit as it is or I wouldn't be here at all, I'm just following orders." A nervous girl said, increasingly anxious. She was obviously over her head.

"Listen girly, deal was 50 crates, and I only see 40. The fact that they sent you means they know they skimmed us, so we's gonna have some fun with you now. Gotta send out a message, you know how it works."

_Damn relatives, relative smugglers, promise to get me out of a jam and throwing me to the lions, sent me alone here..._ River listened to her thoughts. Of course, she knew all the details already. It didn't matter, and the girl would soon wish those were the last of her problems. But right now, she would be grateful.

River snuck in, and wasted no time taking out those from the shadow. They expected more people in the deal, and they were getting complacent. The ones from the shadows easily slumbered down at her sharp touch, while the others were relying on them for cover and not on themselves. Big mistake.

She appeared from behind them, the girl watching her fascinated. Maybe another hand? Or a... leisure woman for them? She saw her smirk and shake her head, as if answering her thoughts. Another of their guns? Couldn't be, was so small and frail... and she stopped, though she made no sound either way, and she fixed her with her gaze, and that smirk, almost mesmerizing. She had time to realize that yet, she was confirming it. Yes, she was a gun. Yes, she was dang-

Before the last thought could be formed, or any subsequent ones about the girl reading her mind, she took out a knife, jabbed it in one of the three men's back of the neck, took it out in a fluid motion, and did so similarly to the second before the third even heard the first hit the floor. By the time the third man turned around and raise his gun, he was hit in the kidneys, falling to his knees, at even ground with the girl. She had not moves except to dispose of the two in the second or two that it took, and her facial expression never changed. She put the knife in the front of his neck and _pushed_, and his hand moved from the gun to his neck, futility attempting to stop the blood flow. Of course, he didn't knew that what was important was already broken and cut, and there was no going back, but even if he was told so, it probably wouldn't have stopped his instinctive reaction. He fell to the floor, still gurgling.

In another fluid motion, one girl had the blood covered knife at the neck of the other, still smiling.

"Useful."

The other was in shock, but the word pulled her out of it. Useful. Yes, she was not useful to the others except in manners she didn't want to consider. And this girl had saved her life. Did she want the same... no, don't go there. No, she was told she was useful and she would act as such. She nodded desperately.

"Yes, yes. Useful. I can be useful. I'll be useful. Useful is my middle name."

River looked at her and nodded. Then, she pointed to the vehicles and told her to load the crates. Ah, a robbery, now the girl could understand. River just rolled her eyes, though the gesture was lost on the other. She could not see. It did not matter. Maybe it was for the best. She knew she could drive. Maybe on Earth-that-was, this was a discipline all acquired, but in the verse today, it was not known to all. She felt a possibility of her prize leaving with the useless stuff, so she already answered.

"A vehicle can accelerate to 100 kilometers per hour in 5 seconds. A knife only requires between 1 or 2 second to aim and launch. Accuracy is high to hit a vital point."

"Ok. Sure. Don't worry. Gonna get your merchandise to your base. Or boss. Or you're the boss... or... whatever you need. I'll behave. Just, no hurting, ok? I don't work well under pain, less good for both of us, right? Right?" She needed reassurances, but got none. The crates were finally loaded, although 2 more vehicles needed to be towed between the two of them to get all the cargo.

"Don't you have more crew to do this?"

"They do not know. Bring something useful for the girl. Excess load is redundant, but will please some."

"Solo mission. Great, just great." she muttered, hoping to not be heard. It was confirmed by a lack of reaction, though obviously River knew.

The mules carried slowly, but purposely towards Serenity through the darkness.

* * *

The next morning, the roar of mules woke up the crew. The had landed in a remote place of the desert planet, so as to not bring attraction. The deal was done, a run to the nearest town was made, and they were ready to take off. Mal hurried out of his cabin, meeting Zoe.

"Think those guys don't like the merchandise or the price?"

"I wouldn't see why they'd return in the morning. Night was a better time to strike, for any of our enemies."

The name of those enemies hung in the air. Could be Alliance, those searching for River, or others. They knew they weren't even safe in gorram space after that debacle with Early that almost turned into a catastrophe. Simon had been shot. Something had to be done soon, they couldn't stay on the defensive already. Serenity was their home, and to be invaded and subdued so easily reeked either of compliance or being over their head. Mal feared both.

So Mal did what he was used to do and took it like it came. He trusted Wash to be ready to take them out as soon as he gave the word, and indeed Jayne was in his skin shirt and short pants with Vera already pointing outside the ramp.

"OH GOD I DID NOT NEED TO SEE THAT! Gorramit, Jayne, put some clothes on..." he looked at the dust heading towards them "...after we deal with this."

"Permission to rip my eyes out, sir." Zoe answered.

"Come on girl, I wouldn't mind seein' ya in something like this from time to time, even iffen it were an emergency" Jayne answered with a leer.

"Permission denied. And you shut it, Jayne."

As the dust cloud approached, they could see the silhouette of someone... a small someone in what appeared to be a bluish nightgown...

"Gorramit, it's River. Anyone know why and when she left last night?"

"Are you really asking how she could have _sneaked_ passed us?" Zoe deadpanned.

"Point taken, but it smells like trouble. At least she came back. After those last talks, I'm glad that if she actually left, she's decided she's not better off without us. Who's she with, anyway? Kinda looks like Kaylee, but she's not dumb enough... TELL ME she's not dumb enough to take my fragile easily shootable mechanic in the middle of the desert!" Mal almost snarled.

"Kaylee? Where you at, girl?" Zoe asked over the comm.

"Ugh... Wash got on internal comm and woke me just now... heading to the engine now, just in case... what's going on?" she answered.

"So you're inside the ship?" Mal asked incredulously.

"Where else would I be?" she replied groggily.

"Then I think River's coming in with a twin o' yours."

"Twin? I don't have a twin. Shiny." Mal almost slapped himself.

Mal closed the comm. "Well, let's see what problems she bringing this time."

Finally the two arrived, and what was more striking were the crates on the mules, and that there were 4 mules, not 2. Good enough for an ambush, and Mal and Zoe's instincts kept expecting people to pop out from the mules and start shooting, but River wouldn't do that to them, would she? Then again, she did have her... episodes and maybe could be persuaded?

River rolled her eyes and looked at them with a bored look. "Serenity is safe."

"What's in the crates, Bit?" Malcolm asked, without bothering to lay it on her for leaving alone and risking her life. He figured, if she arrived well, risk was worth it. River mentally nodded and smiled to the compliment, though she gave no sign.

"Weapons."

The other girl almost blanched, and so drew attention on her. Three eyes were studying this Kaylee-clone, though there were some differences. The red-brown curly hair was the one that most resembled Kaylee, as well as her height and outward appearance, but her face looked rather plain.

"And who's your new friend?" Mal asked.

"Charlotte. Charlie to friends." She thought she got a look. "But you can call me Charlie. Sure. I'm Charlie, nice to meet ya all." She put up the best grin she could, though she was freaked on the inside. Weapons? She'd been tricked in riding with 40 crates of weapons, and to take the fall for 10 missing? Now she understood why they were so eager to make an example out of her, and she knew it would have been a nasty time for her, that was for sure. Deep inside, she felt that human life was priceless, but she knew here on the Rim the price of a life and it was cheap. Unless you had skills. Unless you were...

"Useful." River smiled at her, a much warmer smile than in the werehouse, and nodded. Mal looked awkwardly at her, but she ignored him. Jayne however was already heading to the crates, and when he opened one, he looked like a kid at a candy store.

"Holy balls, girl, you got taste in firepower. Semi-automatic, automatic, and enough ammo to shoot a day, and that's only in one of these them crates!"

She kept up her smile, but Malcolm was troubled.

"And... where did you get these? And why? How much we owe and to who? I don't like to leave debts unpayed." She didn't want to give too much. Maybe he'd understand that she did this because she couldn't do it to her crew, her friends, her family, but maybe he wouldn't. He was the Captain and her superior officer, and if he'd tell the others to accept it, they would, but if he didn't... well, she couldn't spoil it before she could even test her theory.

"Already been payed for." She said in a musical tone. "The takers will not take anymore. They have been swallowed by the tide of history and memory."

Mal put the pieces together immediately. Ah, she sighed, if she could pull her own together so easily and so fast. "You took out an entire crew?" The other two were speechless.

"Yep, your girl's one tough one, I gotta say. Never saw men fall so fast. No idea why the snipers didn't fire, I mean, there should have been some there, right?" Charlie put in, who had been a first hand witness of the transaction. She couldn't understand why they were so surprised at her, the girlish demeanor may have fooled anyone not knowing her, but she thought these people had been on the same ship for enough time to know her worth.

Malcolm turned slowly to River. "That true, girl?"

"Necessary." River shrugged, caught Charlie by the hand, and ran with her into Serenity. Mal swore strongly, then turned to his gun.

"Jayne, get these crates inside, you can admire them all you want when's we in the black. I can't take the chance someone's chasing, whatever Riv says. Come on Zoe, let's give 'em a hand."

Back in the ship, River was running and dragging Charlie by the hand, laughing and ducking like a little girl playing. Charlie tried and barely managed to keep up, lest her hand were pulled out of her socket. She knew this girl was not what she seemed, and that she shouldn't upset her. But she had started to develop a small suspicion. Her way of talking, her behavior... she knew gun hands weren't all that right in the head, but she knew... functional ones. This one seemed... problemed though. She tried to keep her thoughts focused and using words in her mind that wouldn't offend, because her subconscious was telling her something a lot more farfetched was going on here.

"Close." The girl answered. She took one more corridor, stopped, looked at her and smiled sweetly. "She's smart." She opened a hatch to a cabin and shoved her in, then locked the door. "Brain patterns are similar enough to be able to give without permanent and unwanted scars. Less intelligence would make the girls incompatible. Yes, she is useful." And then River left, leaving a scared girl locked in Serenity's guts, incidentally just next to her own bunk.

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any characters, and I do not profit from this story.

**Author's Note**: So I read some of the more reviewed fanfic of these two fandoms, and a few things bothered me: that the Necromongers and other things didn't appear, that the stories were often hijacked by River and Serenity and Riddick was just a tag-along passenger/gun/love interest to River, and that I had to read the same lines from Firefly in a very, very little different context in most of them far too often, and from this I think I'm going to remember some of those lines forever (and I still don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing). I am definitely not going to rewrite the entire Firefly season _again_, so I'm putting this between the 13th episode of Firefly, and a few months since Riddick left Jack (but not long enough for Jack to have decided to follow him, yet).

Edit: I apologize for the rant above, if only on the issue that I actually read recently a story that uses the Necros interestingly, and that my own seems centered around River and the Serenity itself. That will change in time, but things need to be set. I have also noticed now, while writing this story, why Riddick has only around 10% (irony much?) "screen time" when "paired" with Serenity: there are a lot of characters on Serenity, and ignoring them is something we shouldn't/can't do. Giving Riddick 50% of the presentation may be a mistake if I follow through, too. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your interpretation), this will make the story much longer and take much more to tell if I'll hickup in every character, and although I hope you enjoy the side stories and talks and POVs, they will still be, in my interpretation, filler.

I am also going to go in a different way than the "contract" (I'd appreciate if someone would tell me if this is canon or fandom). The glowing blue is still canon (of sorts) and so will be used, but in this story, the reason for the connection between River and Riddick will be different, and initiated in a different way.

Rated T for language, violence and other possible future events.


	2. Talks

After loading the crates in the cargo hold, Malcolm Reynolds called a meeting in the kitchen. Wash was delighted to transmit to the rest of the crew to gather and earn various insults for disturbing their sleep, while Jayne was prone from the beautiful crates after a battle of wits rivaling the one in anything lesser than Serenity Valley. Surprisingly, even River made her appearance.

"What's the problem, Captain? We have company?" asked Book.

"Ooh, ooh, where's my twin?" Kaylee was jubilating, having forgotten that she was woken up rather suddenly and not too subtly.

"Twin?" the Doctor asked with mild curiosity and got a playful elbow in the ribs for his trouble. "Hey, what was that for?" he asked, with Zoe replying "Keep talking and you'll dig yourself deeper." River and Inara chuckled, while the men looked surprised and a little uncomfortable, but they knew enough not to press the issue.

"Here's how it is, folk. It appears last night, while we were enjoying our leasury sleep so well deserved after the fun and dances in the settlement, River was up to no good. Fortunately, not against us, and to tell ya the truth, I kinda like what she got for us."

"Mei-mei, what did you do?" a worried Simon asked.

"Necessary." She sing-sang the word that even melted Simon's usually hardened heart.

"What she diiiiiiiiiiiid" Malcolm drawled and stretched the word, the tension and the curiosity, to her barely suppressed giggling, "was go to an arms deal meetin', kill the buyers and take all their merchandise. 10 crates of it."

Everyone was looking at her like she grew another head, but she was basking in their warmth, their pride, even in their worry. It meant they cared for her, and she cared for them, and she did what she had to to protect them, even or even especially from her. Hit two birds with one stone, or even three. She had given them protection, although the most innocuous one was also the most needful, in her opinion.

"Arguably I don't know much about these things, but shouldn't it have been protected? Like snipers, gun hands, the like. How...?" Inara asked.

"The girl is a weapon." River answered happily.

"Oh, mei-mei, you're not..."

The smile left her face. "If she is not, she has to be. For everyone. She will be a girl someday. For now, they need weapons."

That sobered the atmosphere pretty fast.

"So who are we expecting to come for us for them? Golls, reavers?" Wash asked ironically.

"None. They were 5 and now they flow in the River." River smiled again with these words, actually swaying from left to right.

Another "what the hell" stare from the room, which she pointedly ignored.

"Well, since it's all settled, we should get back to..." Wash started.

"Oh, no, it gets better." Malcolm interrupted. "See, she brought a little accomplice from there, and took her here on this ship before we lift off, and I don't even know where she is."

"Safe." replied River. "For all of us."

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhkay..." Malcom replied. "And what can you tell us about her? Why'd she join you? Won't people be lookin' for 'er? Family, friends? Way I see it, you just kidnapped someone and unlegally like incarcerated it on my property, which means we'll all be in trouble if your stray is on the level with the law."

River shook her head. "They left her to the wolves as a piece of meat instead of the metal they promised."

Mal narrowed his eye, a theory blossoming in his mind. Before he could ask, she said "50 for 40".

Mal swore. "Her employers welched on 10 crates of hardware." There was a brief pause. "Any chance of those feelin' offended we got on board one of the thieves?"

"She did not know. Their band is ashes. Rest will think she burned with them."

"Well, now that that's settled, what can you tell me about her? She called herself Charlie, but what's her skills? Can we trust 'er?"

"She is useful. Mine."

" 'Scuse me?"

"Repetition is irksome." She rolled her eyes.

"River, you can't own a human being. It's not... right." Simon tried to placate things.

Her look turned to steel and sent chills through most of the crew. "She would be dead and worse before if I had not interfered. I took a calculated risk, but it was still a risk. The contents of the crate means less than her usefulness. **To. Me."**

Another uncomfortable silence later, Mal finally cleared his throat. "So what do you propose you do with her? Where'll she'll stay? Hell, where is she _now_?"

"Bunk next to mine and Simon's." She didn't deign to answer the other questions. Mal waited until he realized there's no use in doing so anymore.

"Ok, Bit. We trust you, and you've always been right, so I'll trust your intentions. And I guess you risk some to get your way, so I shouldn't be so grouchy, and you got us all these shiny guns..." Jayne smirked a little too uncomfortably to what he'd seen only less Companions and less reputable folk, and River giggled at this, after which the Captain blushed. The rest were looking at the three of them like they were sharing a very weird joke, but some got it. It wasn't so hard to put two and two together.

"Can you trust her to roam this ship free?" He asked seriously, putting on his captain-y tone. River nodded and said "I will accompany her. She has seen the weapon and fears her." Her eyes took a glassy lure, which again brought tension to the crew, but this time she ignored it. "All the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn't put her back together again. Only she can. The Girl, The Genius, The Weapon, The Furyan... all dancing around the Fury one, killing the signal, and all else that stands in their way..." she started giggling, then stopped, and looked around confused. Without further words, she left and went towards her bunk.

"All sorts of creepyfying." Wash tried to joke, but they all knew it was more true than they cared.

"I'll be in my bunk." Jayne excused himself out. It took a while for everyone to realize he'd be going to his bunk while crates of weapons were in the cargo. Now what could River said about Charlie that would...?

Mal swore something fierce, echoing the feelings of those around him.

* * *

River entered in her bunk, attained a lotus position, started to calm down, relax, and let her mind wonder. She knew if her brother entered, he wouldn't intrude, and she decided to ignore his presence altogether.

After a while, she left her mind wonder in the bunk next to her, feeling the clouded sunshine of Charlotte. It didn't burn as bright as her own Sunshine, but it would do. She let her tendrils burrow deep, search all the girl's secrets, all her secret places, but most importantly, all her pillars. All that let her control herself in an uncaring and sometimes evil universe. And when she finally found one, she started to _pull._

* * *

In the next door bunk, Charlie was starting to get used to her surroundings when a painful stab in the head and a fear like she never felt before started flooding her brain, like a dam was broken, like a tooth was being pulled and the blood pooled around it, flooding her mouth. Memories that she believed buried, controlled, were now resurfacing, apparently something moving out. Bad things that she didn't want to remember and some that even didn't bother her at the time, were now assaulting her sense, feeling as it the victims were yelling in her head, feeling what they felt, seeing what they saw, and seeing things she didn't remember, things she didn't wanted to see... And she _screamed._

* * *

A/N: The last part is a teaser for Chapter 3 and to River's intentions and why she is, or at least going to be, a lot more lucid in the future.


	3. Experiment

River was pulling on the pillar like a dentist on a tooth, and it took her a while to dislodge it, a lot more to completely remove it, and now she was trying to put it back where she knew her brain needed it. Too much flood from the river... she needed to stop it, whatever it took. She had considered from time to time to take from someone on Serenity, but conscious stopped her each time. But it couldn't last forever. She could have tried with someone on a planet, but it would have took too long and left permanent damage that she never could fix. She thought ironic how technology and need would turn her into a space vampire if she accepted that path. The notion of monsters created monsters, takers creating takers, was not lost on her. If it weren't for the Academy, she wouldn't even know, but they loaded her with as much psychological information on potential targets (and was not humanity itself in bits and pieces possible targets of the Alliance? After all, what else was in the Universe but the almighty and almost perfect man striving for a world without sin or hate? Oh, if they'd know...) as with hand to hand combat tactics.

The way for the experiment to have the greatest chance to succeed was to have a person with Mother. Someone disposable. She didn't like the word, it tasted foul on her mind, yet needs must. Someone the crew wasn't attached to, and, possibly, more importantly, someone more attuned to River, which implied at least a few traits in common with those she had connections with, and finally, someone relatively smart. Maybe not as smart as her brother even, but not a complete moron either. Those were a dime a dozen.

And Charlie had something else that others didn't. She was obedient to a certain extent, although fear sometimes pushed her to it. River looked through her memories, savoured them. They were almost as good as those of Serenity's crew, all bittersweet, but not evil as the Hand of... don't think there don't think there don't think there! She tried to control that thought and not let it seep into Charlie's mind, out of fear she would completely lose it. Her head could literally explode from what River knew of the effects of whatever it was she was doing, but she had to try. The King would arrive soon and she had to be ready for this. She, River, was the more important in this, she had to remember, not Charlie. If River didn't experiment, didn't try on at least one other person first, she wouldn't know what she was in for. Here, she had to be the predator and watch the prey carefully on how it reacted, where the weakness were and how to close them from exposure. Soon, she would be pray to another mind, a dark mind, maybe darker than hers, an alien mind even in the form of a man, and she had to know how to adapt. It was bad enough she'd reacted adversly to Reavers, never again. She had to get better, and if pain was the price...

Her pain, Charlie's pain, it mingled, sweat poured from both their foreheads, yet she could not stop now. The pillar was between the two of them now, and she pulled it to her own mind and set it where she felt memories, unused, unusable, were flooding into her like a seeping wound, and put it down, slowly, growling with pain yet induring. It would be worth it.

After this was done, she forced herself to not lose conciousness, to continue. There was still work to be done. She went back into Charlie's mind, hearing as a weak hum her screaming and pleading, and cauterized the wound. There was nothing to put there, and those... things tried to bubble out, but she was used to it. Slowly, methodically, she wrapped her metaphysical clutches again's Charlie's brain, and she gave a whimper. She would ground her for now, until the real challange came.

Charlie continued to whimper as the process was complete. More was needed for the process to be stable, and the subject to be compliant. They didn't know how to do it at the Academy, most of their works on psychics was a bust, and they tried the brute force - cutting, taking, pain. She had the power to do it better, smarter, with tools they could only dream of having. And soon she herself would have tools not even the greatest visionaries dreamed of having, except maybe under their imagination and their writing. But that was some time away, and many things could go wrong, and many more had to be arranged so her actions wouldn't destroy all she had, not to mention all she was to be and create.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

The crew heard the screams and thought they came from River, but something was different. More desperate, more ferocious, more... new. Like someone who hadn't experienced them before, like someone seeing her horrors for the first time. Many gulped at this. Some drew suspicions, conclusions, some wrong, some not. Some thought of the new girl and what was her story. Some went further than this and pieced together the truth, though they still didn't want to let themselves believe River would be capable of this, so they held it to themselves. But it was festering, and actions were taken. It was inevitable, though it needn't be totally known today. She knew they would understand eventually, she would make them if she had to.

Inara, bless her heart, came to their rooms and waited on the outside, clear on where the sounds were coming, though they were muffled. Simon came to his room to find a perfectly calm River, meditating and standing in a lotus position, sweat on her face and face contrived, but otherwise apparently well. It took him a few seconds to realised the muffled sobs weren't coming from her. Inara was at Charlie's door, asking if she needed someone to talk to.

"Make it stop! Make them stop! The sounds, the images, the... the..." and the girl broke down into more sobs.

Away from Inara's ears, too intent on the other room and with the door closed, River opened her eyes and stared at her brother.

"You will realise soon enough, and believe some time after. You will not tell them."

The strenght of her conviction transfixed Simon, as the wheels in his head were moving steady to the conclusion he didn't like. Yes, he wouldn't believe it, but then, he didn't believe she could talk to a mute girl. And if that was true...

River smiled kindly and whispered to him. "Necessary." And then she got up and went to sleep, leaving Simon ponder the consequences while she threw all his thoughts at the other girl, and her sobs echoed louder and louder. She hoped he would understand now how it made him feel, listening to another, but knew that hope rarely payed off. Still, Charlie's cries were a lulaby compared to how she would usually experience sleep.

* * *

The next morning, the two girls left their bunks in perfect unison. River had dressed herself in a nice dress for the occasion, without needing her brother's help in a long time. Charlie, on the other hand, had left like a robot, a somnambule, a... River of the past. It was obvious she slept, if she did, in the same clothes she came onboard the ship, and her vacant eyes seemed to look through anyone and anything she was pointing her head on.

They were lining up for breakfast, each taking the creepyfiying sigh with their own beliefs and prejudices. The girl smiled and asked sunnily, almost as bright as the Sunshine.

"So, what's for breakfast?"

* * *

**AN**: Thanks for the review, Rachet. I'd tell you, but it'd be spoiling. Suffice to say, I know how it ends, but I don't know for certain the road there. Hopefully I'll be able to finish it.

Thanks to those that have followed and read. Reviews would be appreciated too.

Next chapter we finally meet Riddick.


	4. Meet

He was having a bad fucking day. Dumb of him to expect anything different. Dumb, dumb, dumb!

He had left that hell of a planet, got the survivors to New Mecca, and then left. Thought for a while on closing himself in some forgotten rock where no one would find him. But it wasn't going to work, so he settled for leaving the known Verse. Who knew, maybe he'd get lucky.

And at first he did. The further he traveled, the less people knew about the Government, any Government. They were on the edge, colonies forgotten or uninterested by any central system, and that was just fine with him. He'd gotten odd jobs here and there, and the security was less for the whole verse and more for regional protection, from groups of people that could even be called tribes, to planetary ones, and that was, again, very fine with him. It meant if he started trouble, he could get the first ship out of there, with or without the crew's permission.

So things were looking good. By the time he'd landed on Persephone, he'd found out about this new central government calling itself the Alliance. Pompous is what it was. Had a war with some Independents, and won, and rumors were, they were doing all kinds of nasty things in the background. Not his problem, though he liked these guys at the outskirts of the so-called Core worlds (ah, the old arrogance of being the center of the Universe) and figured if the Alliance and his own authorities would ever meet, there'd be more war on both sides. As it was, he didn't much care for revealing himself or making himself feared here, too. It had its advantages, that was for sure, but so did anonymity. They seemed laxer here, definitely no triple max security planets, and if some stuffy bureaucrats with the illusion of grandeur and a few run down mercs were his biggest problem, he was closest to true heaven than he ever remembered. Yeah, no Carolyne, but still, livable and less troublesome. A part of him missed the troubles, the reason to go apeshit on anything with legs that stood in his way, but another liked the relative quiet, being the macho of a whole part of the Verse. In those lone and long trips through the black, he wondered why he hadn't seen familiar faces or names. All was new, the Verse was his for the picking, though ironically this made him pick lightly and not litter on his good catch. The fact that it was just him, that few were intimidated, and if that, only of his looks and not of what he could really do, made it all the more amusing and useful to himself. He figured, if it came down to it, he could wipe out an entire colony and nobody'd be the wiser, nobody'd believe he did it, nobody'd be searching for him. It was good to have those options, to be above them all, to bask in the feeling of superiority from the shadows, even if, or maybe especially because, none would truly know it, feel it.

So how did it turn out so wrong? He had teamed up with some mercs, thieves, former browncoats and not entirely stable, who generally went with "steal from the Alliance and give it to the poor", of which he didn't care, as long as it got his cut. They were insane in their own way, driven by rage and anger, but then again, wasn't he also considered this? Other things were driving him, the hate for authority rather than a specific one, but he figured it was all good. So when they decided to rob that bank in Persephone, he laughed at the idea and thought it would be piece of cake. Money was supposed to be tithe to Londinium, taxes and such, which in his world would be called protection money. This ragtag resistance was trying to throw the planet into unrest, figuring it was a win-win situation. If it succeeded, the planetary authorities either could give nothing or nothing much, prompting the Alliance to retaliate and help their propaganda about the big bad gov attacking first. Or they could pay up everything, which had to come from the rest of the economy, which would prompt social uproar, and again the Alliance would be seen as the aggressor. Or the Alliance would shut up, which meant they'd had less funding. Perfect sweep.

So they waited for the armored convoy in the crowded streets leading to the ships that'd take the money. The morons didn't even bother clearing the streets, thinking the view of firepower would be enough to deter anyone dumb enough to try to steal the money. Which on second thought they should have taken into consideration, but they wanted to bleed the Alliance and thought they could. Yes, bleeding something sounded good to him, and it wasn't like he was a core member of the group, so even if he objected, which he may have if he cared about their lives, they'd have gone through with it. And even if he had considered a dumb plan, which he didn't since at the time it made sense, he _really _wanted to bleed something and especially someone. So he went.

The plan was as simple as it was brutal and carefree, even careless. Get some snipers, snipe the guard in the head, block the streets with some terrain vehicles, and start shooting until they all went down. They figured these kids hadn't seen war, real war, hadn't been in Serenity Valley. Riddick mentally scoffed, it was probably nothing compared to the triple maxes he'd inhabited, or heard were out there.

At first it went well. Until their sniper fell. And then each got hit, from various angles. Surprise, surprise, the weaklings had their own snipers. This was turning bad. This fucking city didn't have sewers enough to crawl through, and running just wasn't in Riddick's strategy, especially since he was so close to a shittone of money. He took a sniper rifle from their reserves duffel, and took out the snipers. Infrared vision helped with that. But now the swarm was coming, and his co-conspirators were bleeding, some dead. He his behind a building next to the column, while the Alliance survivors were cornering him. He took out his ulaks and waited for the incoming rush of bodies to sate them.

* * *

River had left with Zoe shopping, while the rest of the crew split off in their own errands. Unbeknown to Zoe, River was careful to steer her without telling her to the incoming convoy. Jumping around here, dancing there, haggling, biding her time until to intervene. She had taken two knives and two guns from the ship's weapons cache, certain that Jayne would not miss them. She had made progress these past few weeks, in the black, grounding herself to Charlie and redirecting her like a puppet most of the time, soothing her with her mind when it was too much for the girl. She wasn't like those in the Academy after all, he didn't want to hurt Charlie, only to feel less herself, and to see more of the outside world, more lucidly. Simon was happy with her lack of incidents and with her being lucid most of the time. She still spoke in riddles, and sometimes acted childish, but that was more River-ish, more of the girl he knew before than the crazy he'd gotten back from the Academy. River had sighed... if he'd knew what she had planned. This was only temporary. If she'd completely latch on to this girl, that's all she'd ever be, and that was if Charlie's brain wouldn't implode sooner or later, like under the pressure of an anvil. And even if it didn't, there was, mostly, weakness in Charlie that she'd borrowed, only to stay afloat. She was just swimming to the island on borrowed rations, not standing on a tropical beach after a nasty storm on the ocean that had finally cast her away to safety. Of course, Simon had suspected that her "miraculous recovery" had something to do with the new girl, and he wanted to ask, but kept running it through his mind, like he did the possibility of her having become psychic. He wouldn't believe it until she'd spelled it out for him or until he had undeniable physical proof, which he knew he wouldn't ever have, which was just fine with her. She liked that he was improving though, being less protective, trusting her more. Spending time with him became more comfortable for her, and less of a guilt-ridden burden. When he'd start worrying, she'd just move those fears to the other girl, which were beginning to become a relief for her. She knew it may make her complacent and more blunt, but now she could scan the river when she felt like it without the risks to her sanity, or more importantly, of getting it wrong. She couldn't let that end, but she had to let it change or it would end. So she'd get the King. She would prove her use to him and would tell him what he didn't want to hear. It would be a risk, but it had to happen. Furya even now seeped into her, although from the fragments, already dulled and broken by hitting the shores of the other girl's brain, were frail, the distance enormous. She wouldn't have ever picked up on it or on its appointed King coming to her if it didn't have such brutality, such force, such rage, and even such cunning. She needed more. She would have more.

The time was approaching and they were close enough to the convoy. Gunshot rang and Zoe's demeanor changed into the hardness of the soldier, ready to protect River. She just smiled, getting a confused look from Zoe, who was calculating, trying to put things together. Did River knew this would happen? That they would be safe? She wasn't an expert in River psyche, but knew pain and death echoing through her head shouldn't be a good thing. To see her standing there calm, like she'd been out for a walk and nothing out of the ordinary happened, was more unnerving than the discomfort and hardness she was used to in situations like this. She thought she heard a yell in the distance, like a choked animal, but couldn't have known, nor bothered to believe, it came from Charlie who was taking the brunt of the flow of the river.

River came to her, took her hand and led her, Zoe hoping it was towards safety. She realized it was not when the noise became stronger, the lingering effects of smoke grenades more and more obvious, and finally the money column. If she were anyone else, Zoe would have snarled, knowing very well that money was going to the Alliance to pay possibly to funding for institutions like the Academy. A red cloud wanted to swarm her vision, but she banished it in less than a second. Of course, River knew all of this, but gave her no sign that she ever had. They stopped around the corner of a building, and River pointed to the second truck.

"Much of the money is in there. The rest are decoys or not nearly full, or loaded with spare change." River said. Spare change, the F.O.U.'s (fuck you's) to the alliance, wasting them valuable fuel and space in their ships. "Don't worry about me, we have one more passenger needing assistance. Make sure the truck is ready for departure when we arrive."

Without leaving room to reply, River sprinted, now revealing she had one knife in one hand, and took another in another hand, and headed to where a mass of security officers were heading. She went quietly and cut their throats from behind, at least six of them down in over half a minute before anyone ever registered her presence, so willing were they to move forward and take down their supposed target. Zoe picked off the stragglers, and saw injured people, unable to distinguish robbers from civilians. Irrelevant, her soldier mind was saying, she had been given a command from someone that appeared to be lucid enough to know what and why she was saying, and the soldier had to do her part and secure the vehicle for immediate extraction. If she were anyone else, she would have ponder if she would have been subordinated to River or someone like here were she in the Alliance's employ, but she refused to listen to such thoughts even for a second as she assessed the area and made her way towards the truck. It wasn't as hard as she imagined, the robbers thinking she's on their side, the guards mostly gone. It appeared that River had seen this coming, and now she realized she had waited for the right opportunity to insert Zoe inside the right truck. She almost smiled: River was a good commander of troops when she was all there. She didn't know why she wanted another passenger, but wasn't going to argue, especially since the first part of whatever her plan had proved successful and proved River to be an excellent tactician. She lay on the bench and tried to hotwire the care when she heard a roar like an animal's, and a part of her mind pinpointed from where River had gone, but she didn't pay attention to that, instead to her orders to make the vehicle viable for transportation and escape, and put her trust in River.

* * *

Riddick cut the neck of the first guard with his ulak and prepared for the rest of them to storm their position. Stupid fucks. They didn't know who they were dealing with. He'd counted at least a dozen of them swarming his position after he took out the snipers, smart enough to notice he was the greatest threat. He could take them, but it was risky. He'd been used for mercs to try to bring him in alive, and to fight fewer of them in numbers. His animal also told him that he'd grown soft off the fat of the Alliance while on their territory, even if he had operated these couple of months in what was considered no man's land in all but name. These places were nothing compared to the triple max prisons, _and the raw Furya_, a voice whispered to him, and that had made him complacent. No matter, he was always the better hunter, the better killer, _the alpha_.

As he was getting ready for a next attack, three guards stormed at the same time, guns drawn. Stupid fucks, didn't know they should bring a knife to close quarters. He cut the one in the middle and with a roar barreled into him, vacating the place where a couple of slugs had peppered already. With sinuous moves, he cut the two before they realized their target had not been where the slugs remained, and fell even as Riddick was hiding back into cover and assessing the next wave. Well, 4 down, 10 to- When he looked though, there were only 5 left standing, two of them having held their shots as to not kill their now dead companions, and the other three fighting someone he couldn't see. Not waiting for more information or to let some bastard take him down from some roof he may have missed, he took one of the guards' gun and shot the two, making ready to run through the other three and maybe save the life of the bastard that gave him a chance to hightale it out of there, even without the prize, from what was turning in the slaughter of his crew. He started running, but instead of the backs of the three he expected to see, he only saw one girl, full with blood, knives in both hands, and the other three on the ground. For a second, he entertained the idea that someone fought to rescue her and took the three of them down with him, but the knives in the girl's hands told a different story.

Not bothering to even look, he instinctually grabbed the girl's hand and continued running for the relative safety of the trucks, just as she said "Second truck." He knew his crew didn't know which one of them had the biggest paycheck and was hoping to take all of them and find out later. At the time it didn't matter, all bravado and no backup plan in case things would go to hell like they did. In truth, Riddick wasn't worried even if they screwed up, the Government couldn't take him even if the Alliance gave him to them, and he didn't like the odds of any of the staff of any prison they'd throw him in. His only mild concern was that some overzealous hick would want to put a bullet in his brainpan on some deserted part of the planet, but that just meant an easier, though less fun and damaging to the opposition, way of escape.

The girl would have laughed at these thoughts, if she had heard them, but from this man she could only see violence and blood and death and ways to use Schnapps and other drinkables and edibles that she really didn't need to know. This man was worse and more of a loose canon than she thought, though his actions seemed controlled, possibly instinctual, as he fought for survival and took the girl by the hand to safety. To her surprise, he even took her advice and headed to the second truck. In truth, there was another reason for choosing that vehicle. As with Charlie, the loot was secondary, the primary target was the useful. And was the King useful. Captain Daddy wouldn't understand, but he'd accept eventually. Moreso, these common thugs had done one thing right, albeit incidentally, and isolated the second truck from most visual patterns of attack. It was a mathematical comedy and an irony that the authorities would bitterly swallow if they ever had someone to tell them that their truck that was to be guarded the most, had been left the most vulnerable to take.

She silently congratulated herself on taking Charlie, as at this moment she'd have regreted not getting someone first, even if it was from the crew, from taking the blunt of the attacks. This half man, half creature, was a predator, imbued by centuries of life on Furya, his mind a hurricane of fire and pain. She knew Charlie was yelling like there was no tomorrow in her bunk that she had locked after that first day when she had done what had to be done, when she had embedded commands to not try to escape or try to hurt herself, to claw her eyes out and put chopsticks in her ears and... well, it was hard the first day, after which she had continued reinforcing those commands and keeping her living doll fed and hydrated, at first needing to force her to do so and leaving for her bunk tired. But was it worth it. All worth it. She may not have been able to function in this situation otherwise, and showing weakness to the King would have been a mistake, even if he didn't hurt the helpless and the weak and had a fondness of keeping them alive. But she had to show him she was balanced, if nothing else, and see what part of that he liked and amplify it. It was unpredictable that the King could not be read, at least not his current thoughts and decision, but that gave her even more respect for Furya, keeping his secrets while revealing his deeds. Furya really loved her King, she expected, and must agree with her plan if it led him to her and didn't make him end her in one of those instinctual fits of rage she now believed him capable of. Of course, it was just beginning, she reminded herself. Focus. Focus.

Riddick chanced a look at the girl, afraid she had tumbled over and he was dragging her over the bodies now, possibly breaking her arm... but he saw that she kept up with him, in those... wait, bare feet? They were getting closer to the trucks, no more than 5 seconds away from his improvised shelter, really, but he had time to notice she lightly walked over the bodies, almost... dancing, knives, for they could not be shivs, still in her hands, including the one he had clutched. She gave him a bright, reassuring smile and kept her head looking at him, which should have made her tumble, but her feet kept dancing in sinc with his running. It wasn't a devilish smile, not a tempting or lustful one either, but happiness, like he'd seen sisters give their brothers and viceversa when receiving presents or meeting after a long time away from each other. He didn't bother to consider any of this as he dashed, filing the information for future reference.

He arrived at the truck and passed the driver seat and rounded by the front to the other seats, catching a glimpse of a dark skinned woman looking puzzled at them, but not scared, and starting the engine. He didn't know her from his crew, but they didn't really trust him with all their browncoat cloak and dagger underground secrets. Could she be from the civvies, biding her time to get her crew out, and now realising she's on her own? And who'd bring a girl like the one with the shivs with her? They probably knew each other, since he directed him to this truck in particular. And she didn't wore a uniform, which meant to him she was no imminent threat, and would not look a gift horse or girl in the mouth unless it tried to bite him in the ass.

He was about to tell the girl to lose the knives, but she did so a second before they were in front of the car door, hiding them somewhere on her, and he pushed her between himself and the dark skinned woman who started the car as soon as he entered it. He looked at her approvingly, noting that she reeked soldier. The other girl was looking at him with that same smile and what he could only call puppy eyes. Not like Jack though, Jack used to look hard, unforgiving, maybe a little sad. This one looked like she got a puppy for some God forsaken holiday of His. He ignored her and asked the driver.

"You're not part of my crew."

He was glad she had her eyes on the road and still heard him at the same time, though she made no attempt to answer him. Now that he looked better, he saw and smelt not an ounce of fear on her, or on the other girl, for that matter. Now that was interesting. The driver smelt of determination, though the adrenaline was pumping. The other... of... hope? Her body heat was controlled while she looked with that same hopeful smile at him, and now he was getting pissed, wanted to slap her, but stopped himself, probably more trouble than it was worth. If the driver would come in her defense, ghosting these bitches while on the run would complicate matters, not to mention they both probably had military training. So as they got closer to the outskirts of town, he moved his eye from the driver on the front window and introduced himself. No use giving a fake name, if this Alliance and his Government wanted a showdown for him, all the more chaos and all the more he could thrive.

"I'm Riddick."

"Zoe." she said, not looking away from the view.

"River." the short woman said.

"So, mind telling me what your business with an armed money truck is? What would you have done if my crew was successful?" he asked.

Zoe didn't see why she should lie, either.

"Target of opportunity. I was just out shopping, and this truck full of money was a chance too good to pass out." It really was the truth, dammit! She thought this big guy wouldn't believe her about shopping, as she realized he had been staring at her since he entered the truck. The second he put his ass down, in fact. She had no doubt he had also been scanning his surrounding while doing that, too. And she didn't look or act like a girl going shopping. Except the shopping bag she had somehow put down next to River. Oh.

And she couldn't really tell him River had a feeling about the situation or the truck, let alone the man himself. And now that she thought about it, target of opportunity also reeked of falsehood, even if that was also true. What if the man thought she'd been sent, or went solo, to take the greatest prize out of their hand in the confusion? Yes, they failed, but if they didn't, and if what she said was true from the point of his view, would they view her as a Saffron, willing to throw him to the wolves once the danger was over? Maybe that's why River went for him, maybe he'd be mighty pissed if he survived, somehow took all the trucks and found out the biggest payday was gone. Zoe wasn't afraid, but she had started to be apprehensive. For one second, she considered if she liked this new and improved River, but pushed the thought away. River didn't react, but controlled herself to give her a hard glare.

But Riddick had looked, really _looked, _really _saw_ that she was telling the truth, and indeed, he was thinking what someone who wasn't Zoe might have feared: What _would_ have happened if it all went right? He wasn't much interested in so much money, but knew his crew could be hypocritical on occasion, especially regarding their own well being and profit. What would they have done if she took this truck? Probably gone after her. So she was expecting it. So either she had a contingency or... there was a missing piece. The information hit his brain like a bullet, and he noted that it came out of his skin. All his instincts were crying, yelling at... not at the driver? No, at the girl between the two that was staring intensely on the horizon, as though she had thousands of thoughts running through her head running simultaneously. He knew that look, saw it in hackers and geniuses, and sometimes dumb hillbillies who'd try to fry their brain to find a solution to a problem that they felt was above their head, but they kept trying until they got it. His blood boiled, not with rage, but with confirmation. Yes, she was a missing piece from the scenario. An uncountable quantity. It wasn't the driver, then, that took down 3 guards in the time he took two... no, wait. There were 14 counted coming for him, and he'd only done 7. Oh fuck. Couldn't be. He thought some of the crew got lucky, but... there were no gunshots in that time. She took down 7, left 7 for him, all in the time he took out his own and only had time to watch out for his ass. She had _calculated._ His mind said no, but his blood said yes and something under his skin was laughing and threatened to bring that sound to the surface. Well, well. Equal sharing. This should be interesting.

Nobody was following, nobody was watching them, the devastation to the central-ish part of the city taking up the entire city's attention, even at the cost of all that money. The local government's complacency and outright arrogance had sealed its fate and tied their hands. They had to treat the civvies and corall the wrong doers first, and worry about the armored vehicles later. Some guards would be posted, eventually, and some idiots would try to break the doors, but things were calming down and the trucks were finally taken out of the greedy hands of the population. That there were only 5 instead of 6 gave no troubles for the haulers, thanking their lucky stars that they had at least this small victory to show the population that it was worth it, that they had won and that the price in human life, although not bought, had been necessary, to keep the city out of the Alliance's bad side. Maybe if they'd had known which truck went missing, something bigger would have been done, but really, probably nothing else. The city's public image all over the planet would cost as much as those trucks in shares and trust, and maybe double if they couldn't claim at least a small victory. So although half the money in value was stolen, the city officials could always laugh at the thieves, in public at least, that they had stolen only near worthless F.O.U.s. Of course, this meant that a public warrant was given to search out any who had more coins than they should, but would also effectively blind and cripple any real investigation searching for the real _paper_ stolen money. When eventually they would find out this, someone in _Serenity_ would remember River laughing for hours after the F.O.U.s were announced stolen.

* * *

And so, through a desolate landscape, a soldier fulfilled with completing an indeed irregular but successful mission, a mind reader happy for her small gambit in the great scheme of things to come, and an ex con happy to have escaped free with as many holes as he entered a butched heist, moved towards _Serenity_.

* * *

**AN**: Richet: She'll get better/worse. She's taking the best course she can under the circumstances. She also guesses/knows how Riddick's in her universe, how Serenity (the movie) would have turned out, and has a better plan.

Next time: Riddick meets Mal & co.


	5. Riddick

Mal was not having a lucky couple of months. Since a certain black merc's unannounced and unwanted visit almost crippled Serenity some months ago, he'd had to hide, lay low and basically run. Jobs were shitty to non-existent and he was forced to show his face only in the places where he trusted most, which meant a 50-50% chance of being turned in. It was a miracle the bounty on River didn't include him, or wasn't the often seen on border planets and in the underworld, but he couldn't take the chance after that last near debacle. The only silver lining was when, somehow, River had returned from a "mission" he had no idea about with 40 crates full of weapons, which meant they could now defend themselves if worst came to worst.

But was that silver lining thinner than a violin string! Because River had also brought a guest, as crazy as she used to be. Sure, it wasn't obvious at first, but the screaming later that day rose the hairs on their back. At first they thought it was River, but it sounded... wrong. Different somehow. Some suspected. Great, now they had _two _nutcases they had to smuggle under the Alliance's noses. It wasn't like part of him wasn't proud of that, of his abilities, of mocking the authority beast, but his more rational self worried even more. They had come to the conclusion - without River's input, during the discussions or after - that she was another mind reading assassin somehow escaped from the Academy and to whom River felt a need to protect. It was entirely easy to suspect what would have happened if Simon got himself somehow captured or killed before River would have woken up. Would they had turned her into the Alliance while she was sprouting gibberish, thinking that'd help? Without someone guiding her, River would have been a much greater danger to the ship than she was now. The doc was sometimes misguided, but he fulfilled his role. Rules had to be put down, but it didn't mean he didn't appreciate his presence, at least in keeping River on a sort of sanity line that, even if she crossed it, they would still see it was there, and eventually, so would she. But starting the River ordeal all over again? At least River had been doing a hands-on job, Mal figured she was overly protective, but wasn't that how Simon looked? How even he would look from an outside perspective? River didn't let the girl alone two seconds except when he took her to her bunk, and sometimes she would seal her in just to keep the crazy from attacking the crew! Yep, River had progressed enormously, and if it was due to having someone to care for... a purpose?... then he could live with that.

Ok, so maybe the silver lining wasn't so thin.

But from silver to platinum was a long way, Mal frowned. He couldn't get those damn guns off his boat, and he had the feeling they were hot and they'd be in trouble if they'd have to legally justify them. Definitely he had no papers for them, but they were theoretically filling half the cargo hold - or most of his hiding compartments, however he'd like to put it, and he didn't like the odds that someone would get lucky and find one, which usually wasn't a problem since they smuggled so little in comparison, and so the odds were rare that a hidden compartment would even have anything if found. And more worryingly, they were sending the wrong kind of message. A browncoat, even suspected of smuggling that much firepower to former comrades, let alone use them to equip his own small army and take over a planet, would get no benefit of the doubt. And if they looked closer on his crew... only a sane River could save their asses by telling them before shit hit the fan that they should run from such a lucky - or unlucky, depending on what the circumstances forced him to do and how lucky he would be - Alliance officer.

So here they were, back on Persephone, hoping against hope that some of the lowlifes here would have use for his guns, and would pay decently for them. Truth be told, it almost wasn't worth it getting them for free if he'd have to stay with fear - greater than the couple of months - of the free Verse because of them. They were however useful in a pinch, just not all of them, but at least enough to be stashed around the ship, for the crew to use in emergencies. A few pieces each, _not a whole gorram crate!_ Now that they could explain.

The sun was starting to set, and most folk had returned on board from their activities, except Zoe and River. Great, just gorram great. He'd hate to have to go after them at night, Persephone had relatively big towns of all kinds of people, and he'd never know where his gorram reader would have taken Zoe on a whim. He was ready to call Jayne and start looking anyway, when he heard an engine. Gov engine, he knew its likes in the better part of the city, around that lower level market where Zoe and River went shop-p-p...

Oh. Fuck.

Jayne didn't need prompting, and he was returning with the new and improved Vera, and pointed it towards the shadowed dot that was coming towards them.

He remembered his Reader returning in a similar manner a few weeks ago. Deja vu all over again. At least he hoped so, at least it meant they would be safe. And housing another Government vehicle they couldn't explain, didn't have papers for and would stand out like a sore thumb. And probably full of contraband.

But it was still a silver lining. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Mal.

The dot inched closer, but there didn't seem to be others to back it up. Of course, it didn't mean much, just that some overzealous pig wan thought he could take him alone. He almost released a cracked laugh, yeah, at least we have enough firepower to take down anyone who'd do be that stupid, but then we'd have to bury the bodies, hope Zoe and Riv get their asses here before the general alarm sounds...

He kept thinking these thoughts until the armored vehicle closed in to Serenity's ramp and stopped. Mal saw three figures, one of which, the smallest, was milk-white and positioned between the other two.

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.

The door opened and out came... Zoe. Mal's jaw dropped, he was expecting to shoot these people. Ok, so he forgot his reader could have done it with a toothpaste if she wanted to. But they couldn't ask him to be rational in a time of crisis, did they? Ok, so he was the one who made it a crisis, but still. It was the Captain-y thing to do, gorramit!

Ok, Mal, think this rationally, logi- Wait, why were there three people in the car? He had all his people on board except for these two... right? He felt like he couldn't think straight anymore and was about to turn his back and call it quits, when the thought hit him like a hammer.

Deja vu all over again. What if River brought back another stray?

She giggled and went out from the car through the driver's seat, while the other door slowly opened and a big, well tanned man got out. He was intimidating and had the weirdest goggles he'd seen, and he was entertaining the idea on why he would wear them on sunset. He didn't notice those two scary curved blades for a few seconds, but who could blame him? He was the Captain and had the right to be in shock and miss some small details when River had brought in another stray. And not the small and lovable kind either. At least he didn't look like the kind of man that'd be given respectability for this kind of car, which under the circumstances was more reassuring than not.

"Evenin'." The man rumbled. He didn't yell, but the sound carried and chilled everyone's spines except River.

"Evenin' mister." Malcolm Reynolds, former war hero (or criminal, depending on interpretations), Captain, smuggler, Daddy, replied in an evenly tone, trying to not be mistaken for scorn towards the big man. No sir, he didn't have any scorn for him, if he'd let him live, thank you very much. "What brings you to my good ship here?" Yep, leek authority, show 'im who's boss. Imply the threat that this mountain of a man with that crazy gun works for me, and will pump you full of...

The man snorted before he could finish his train of thought, as though he knew what he was thinking. Gorram readers.

"Well, see," he drawled, "a mighty complicated state of affairs did, which culminated in the three of us jacking this here _Government_ vehicle full o' stolen money and bringing it to your good ship here."

Mal's jaw hung, though a part of his brain scoffed at him, telling him he expected this all along. So it was true then. More contraband, more trouble with the law, hopefully as little knowledge of who they were as it was on gun job, another stray, and possibly another reader. Why you expect anything different, Mal? Silver lining though, it was money, possibly unmarked, possibly untraceable. Yeah, right, since when did he have so much luck?

The others had come to the noise of the engine, rather foolishly Mal concluded absent-mindedly, to see this new turn of events. Simon was first out, yelling, but not desperately, "Mei-mei!" "Simon" she yelled back, running to hug him. Their relationship had improved dramatically over the past few weeks, and only for the price of a body, River mused. No, mustn't, shouldn't, think there. But she kept those thoughts to herself and buried them in herself, not in Charlie. Anything relating to her plan with Charlie she kept in her own mind and not in hers. After all, if there's one thing the Academy taught her right, it was that a puppet may lose or cut her strings, and then information on former employers rises to the surface. And then... She smothered those thoughts in Simon's bosom, along with her face and the Sunshine she let (or made?) Charlie pour into her.

Riddick remained alone now, the soldier/amazon taking the ramp fast, obviously having someone or something inside needing attending to, he only hoped it won't be a gun. The big guy with the... crazy thing, if that could be called a weapon, had enough firepower to blow him and the truck to kingdom come, so he didn't think they'd consider any _more_ need for overkill. The kid the girl was hugging looked like made from money and soft of skin and bone. He almost huffed, but didn't want to startle the natives. He realized he was in the middle of the desert with a truckload of money, literally. His crew would have killed for a tenth of this. On his way here, he thought it might be interesting, but now a bit of worry crept in. He didn't know what kind of man this captain was, but he didn't look or act like some lowlife. Obviously, he had women on board, the kinds that, if he figured right, wouldn't stand for crap and would cripple him if he looked at them or especially acted the wrong way. A man that had these kinds of weaknesses could have other, including morality. A chuckle in the back of his head reminded him that some, like him, didn't necessarily follow this rule.

Surprisingly, what came out next was what looked like a Companion - he'd heard the term around, but he thought it was too fancy for him, a whore's a whore and that's all he needed, when and if he wanted, that is, and he'd usually find the kinds that didn't take money, those were more fun anyway - and a Holy Man. Again, he kept his growl in check. Run from one, find another. What kind of hell ship was this, anyway? The only _truly_ military was the brown woman, although the captain also reeked of the sway of the water buffalo, or more commonly known as the pigheaded browncoat. Now that he looked better, while the whore's confidence cracked with fear and sweat, the preacher was way too confident for his line of work. He didn't need to have spent days with a holy man to know their shit spews fear as much as any civvie.

A being... a... girl... that radiated pure sunshine, pure volcano, in reds and yellows through his goggles, like he'd never seen before, ran towards the opening, squealed, and asked if they have company. He was tempted to remove his goggles, but all in due time. He was amused as the captain nearly bludgeoned his face with his palm. So he wasn't as stupid as he looked, smelled and acted.

Mal at least noted that Wash had the good sense of staying and possibly preparing for an emergency takeoff if the shit hit the fan.

Mal cleared his throat and now they were all looking at Riddick.

"Well, stranger, I'm Captain Malcolm Reynolds and this is my Firefly Serenity and it's crew."

Why the hell not.

"Richard B. Riddick. Ex-convict. Murderer." They all looked stunned, until River completed. "King." and giggled. Riddick cocked an eyebrow over the silence, not missed by the girl. "Ain't no king, girl. Not even of some underwolds or something. Prefer bein' alone. You must be misinformed." She looked at him and plastered that smile, and wondered if it was real or fake. Somehow it looked... transplanted. "Not yet." she giggled, broke off from her brother, who everyone noted didn't have the common sense to get up the ramp with the rest of the crew, went to him, took his hand almost like he did hers, and walked him face to face with the captain.

Must resist showing him eyes. Must resist.

River didn't know the funny stuff she was missing.

"So, Mr. Riddick, how do you propose we handle this?" Mal replied conciliatory. It really was, and he would have been proud that Riddick considered that himself.

"I don't see myself in a good position staying on this rock more than I have to", he didn't growl, he used his own conciliatory, not-soft-so-you-don't-scare-them tone, "so I figure you put this truck in your hold and drop me off a decent rock with" don't be greedy Riddick, you have at least 3 unknown quantities and a soldier that has something important on that boat "a split of what's inside it equal to all your crew." Good idea. Involve them. Greed might make them want to take him in.

Mal considered. Actually considered, didn't really pretend. Then looked at the goggled man and asked "Ain't that too generous? I'd understand if you asked half, maybe a third with my two crew members. But ain't that too little to ask, considering, and I'm just guessing here, it was your show and you got what you want?"

He couldn't pretend anymore. Couldn't keep it back. This man was all kinds of funny. He laughed like there's no tomorrow, tilted his head backwards and laughed some more. Nobody was fooled that he didn't pay attention to them anymore, his body position was too stiff, too rigid, too... controlled and straight.

"See, Captain, as far as I know, those that really wanted the money are either caught or dead, and towards the end of it, I just wanted to clear my hide outta there, didn't have any chance for the money. But then these here girls came, and not only took the truck, but took me from what I'll admit was a tricky situation. Coulda let me there to rot, hell I would... hell, I _did_, whole crew, and no, I wasn't in charge. Instead, they killed guards for me and pointed me in the right direction. I reckon that's worth something, and b'sides, it is your boat. Consider my proposition... boat tax. Keep me as long as I feel like it and drop me where I want to stay, and I'll settle for... what? 10%?"

"That sounds fair. For crew at least. That's my regular pay, 10% and their bunk, facilities, kitchen, you know, what we can get out of a ship like this. But you wanna be crew?"

"Got nothin' else on my plate, but I'll have to think about it. What do you say?"

Riddick supposed Mal would think it over, consult with the crew, at least with the big man or the black woman, but instead he turned his head to the small woman that he noticed was still by his side. "Anna?" he asked curiously.

She giggled. "River. I told him. And he risked telling us his real name too, you know." Then she looked more seriously, but not like in the truck. "King stays."

Riddick turned to her and offered her his hand. "Nice to meet you, River, and thanks for welcoming me on board". She looked straight at him, with an air of professionalism, grabbed his hand and shook it. "River Tam. Mind reader. Psychic. Genius. Former government assassin. Accused of terrorism." She smiled that sunny, possibly fake, smile. "Girl. Nice to meet you, Richard B. Riddick. Last Furyan Alpha King." She nodded her head sagely. "Most Wanted Man in the 'Verse. Future King of Kings." She didn't take his eyes off him as she said those words, even if she couldn't read his current thoughts. For now.

* * *

**AN**: Thanks for the reviews Kira Kyuu and Rachet, and everyone else who read and liked it.  
Rachet, to answer your question, he just guessed. It wasn't hard, really. I'm trying to make the encounter as realistic as I can, and River can't read his mind (despite his cool exterior, I'd imagine his mind's like Furya, really tangled in violence and such) and he obviously can't read her (though Mal seems to think he can, and of course he's half right), but he can read body temperatures. He read River and Zoe's calm (and her fear when it spiked, but I omitted that one, he was engrossed in thinking for the long run). He just did the math, his mind told him there were no gunshots so his crew didn't take out those three, and there was only the girl there, who knew more than she should. So he put two and two together. Now, in my opinion, River may or may not "shared the kills", but Riddick thinks she did. She may have killed some of them to get to him faster and run out of there more quickly, or may have left some for him to quell the beast before taking him with her. He'll just think she "shared the kills". I also planned not to get Riddick in trouble because of River, but now it appears he got a little because of her, but also out of his impulsive self-description. He'll continue to dig himself deeper, and so will River, but really, what can Mal do against the two of them? And at the end of the day, it's River's plans that will matter and possibly succeed.


	6. Dinner

Riddick noticed an intake of breath from those present at the woman's words. What was interesting is that it didn't start when she mentioned the last titles, it was when she mentioned the first. It wasn't the kind of shock you have when you find out your lovable crewmate can read your mind. No, it was the kind of shock he'd been amused of on that God-damned planet when your secret was out. _Their_ secret, not just hers. In fact, they looked like they had more right to keeping all she said a secret than she had. He'd come clean, and was surprised she did too, so openly, and the surprise wasn't not only his. More important, he found he actually believed her.

The last piece of the puzzle fell into place, when he expected much, much more pieces to be floating around. He'd known expressions like "A wizard did it" from some humorous vids, and this fit. Being able to read minds, she could know what his crew was up to. That there would be more snipers than they expected. That they'd fail. And her skill set that he suspected of her matched her job description. And nobody knew about the Alpha Furyan shit except if they got it out of their minds. His front brain yelled "too neat, too direct, tossing their advantage out the window. What's the payoff? And it's probably not true", but the thing under his skin was screaming that all he was told was the truth, that she could read his blood, his home, his... all of him. And when such a conflict happened, he knew which part to trust. He couldn't give a fuck about Furya, about Shirah, about glowing blue, but his instincts and that silent whisper burbling right under his blood had saved his ass more time than he could count when going on logic and brain would have turned out catastrophically.

He really liked this place now, someone who he could keep up, who he could kill harder than anything he'd been up against, and damned if she could read this. But if she did, she gave no sign of it. So he decided to worm himself into the crew, at least as much and as long as he could, and study this new pray, this new superpray. The things on the red planet had been good sport, but alone, they had no chance against him. True, they could kill and eat people at his own pace, but were hunting for food, and thus took the weak ones, the vulnerable. He wanted more sport. They'd come to him too in the end, but they were no match, even as they swarmed him. So much concentrated awesomeness in a single body though... he just hoped he wouldn't be disappointed.

Trying to lighten the mood while Jayne was heading to take the truck inside from prying eyes, he asked River "Why quit? Didn't pay well enough?" with a slight smirk. He noticed a different kind of change in the crew now, a tension that he couldn't quite define the reason of. "Cut in her head. Behavior modifications. Bad people." She almost shuddered as she replied. He wasn't exactly dumbstruck, but he got it. He suspected the fucked up things people in authority were trying to do to those they thought they owned, and was himself relatively surprised he never run in these types, though he was confident he'd make short work of them. But better safe than sorry, so he'd claimed those eyes of his were made by the best doctors in the slam, and not that he was born with them. And if people would knew he'd shine blew sometimes... Oh fuck. He moved his attention to the girl, but she gave no sign of hearing him. Again. The others she could react to, but she was apparently unable to follow his brain, at least not in real time. She still knew things about him, about his future if she was to be believed (and why shouldn't a man that can see in infrared believe?), but, possibly for now, that was it.

He also understood where they were coming from. It was mostly a boon for to blurt out your name if your were the most wanted man in the 'Verse, and his build and record spoke for him volumes to smell that sweet fear and that acidic piss in the pants of anyone who wanted to fuck with him, but it was probably a curse to say you were experimented on by the Government and look so frail, then creep people who would help you that you know a few thousand ways to kill them. Really bad body-job combination, at least for someone on the run from the gov. And he suspected she was on the run, if she was using a fake name. He knew best that once you're in and you know the gov's dirty secrets, there's no retirement, only running or leaving feet first. And they had probably tested their experiment, on people who knew too much that the gov didn't want leaking. She also talked at the third person sometimes. Brain damage? If so, how severe? If so, would she crack someday? So he was going to board a ship with a ticking bomb. He suppressed a smirk and felt the animal howler in pleasure, that he was almost sure his skin and muscles were trembling with joy. Oh yes, this would be fun.

Mal brought Riddick on the ship and showed him the ship, gave him the rules, the usual. Riddick noticed Mal wasn't too tensed around him, probably having a mind reading assassin that's on your side (most of the time) on your ship made him feel better. And that he was vouched for, which Riddick wasn't too used to, especially from strangers. Malcolm showed him where he'd be staying until he decided if he wanted to be part of the crew or just leave ship with his cut, then invited him to breakfast with the crew. Riddick studied all the parts of the ship, noting places where contraband could be stashed, as well as some weapons that might come in handy, as well as noticing it was obvious this was a smuggler ship. Malcolm hadn't blinked an eye when he put an emphasis on Government good, and he still reeked of browncoat, though less crazy than his former crew. Or at least a different kind of crazy, if he'd just invited a self proclaimed law breaker onto his ship. Crazy or he had too much faith in that girl of his. Everything could be broken, everything. He had escaped some inescapable situations, some worse even than the triple max prisons. He knew how to survive in a ship with barely nothing stuck in the black. Didn't like what he had to do to survive, but he knew how to and had done it several times. If this captain was going like his last crew against something over his head, he'd survive and maybe even thrive. At least he hoped he'd be able to hone his skills instead of eating, drinking and women that made him soft these couple of months.

He figured they weren't pirates or slavers, it didn't match with the jovial atmosphere of the ship or with the Companion and Holy Man. Though the two didn't fit on a smuggler's ship either, but it was a bigger fit nonetheless. Though he gave no sign of it, he was waken from his revery by load sobs in one of the cabins. He kept his face and minds neutral, but cursed himself for not noticing sooner. He tried to remember, and he realized the noises were _dimming_ since he moved from that part of a ship. Like someone knew he was around and didn't like the sound of his mind.

Oh. Fuck. Two of them? _What kind of hell ship is this anyway?_

Finally arriving in the kitchen, he saw most of the "players", including a new one, also a non-military. He figured he was the pilot or mechanic, though he'd bet that yellow-and-red woman was the other if he'd had to guess. He knew he needed the mechanic more than the pilot if things went south, and was happy that both looked like pushovers. At least something went right in this circus he was thrown into. The blond man and the black woman were exchanging looks that he had seen on couples, and was surprised at the match. Weird, though he'd seen weirder.

They all sat at the table and Mal made introductions.

"As you know, I'm Captain Malcolm Reynold and this is my ship and my crew. We... do jobs for various people, usually transport goods, sometimes for the Alliance." He turned to the big man with the crazy gun "The first man you met next to me is Jayne Cobb, he's my... public relations officer". Mal and Jayne smirked, but Riddick didn't. He thought the Captain would actually be trying to hide that this was a bad joke, but it appeared maybe he gave him too much credit. His lack of reaction would have prompted people to think he's dumb, but since they expected him to figure out what this guy did, he was worried he'd appear to be too careful. Which didn't hurt, but he didn't want to give that impression. But they didn't seem to mind, and Mal moved on, looking at the black woman.

"This is Zoe Washbourne, my first officer, and that scrummy man next to her is her husband, Wash." For real? This man actually married this woman? The Verse was a very strange place indeed.

He turned to River then. "You've also met River Tam, and that's her brother, Simon", he said, pointing at the skinny man that hugged the girl earlier. "He's our doctor on board in case the... public relations turn nasty."

Riddick let this sink in. So, since that girl trusted him, they were letting him in on their inner world, one small step at a time. Of course, in a week he'd know everything about them and he didn't need to read their minds, only talk when was needed, stick to the shadows and let his ears listen and nose smell.

"Our Ambassador, Miss Inara" and Riddick saw Mal hadn't glanced at her, suspecting there was something weird going on between the two of them. If he didn't know better, he'd figure Mal for acting like a lovestruck schoolboy. Weirder and weirder.

"Preacher Book", he said, turning to the black man, who nodded in a friendly manner. "He's more of a passenger, but got to grow on us these last few months. Not his preaching though." Riddick was at least consoled that these sheep at least didn't follow the wolf that he knew wanted to take his flock to the slaughter. He believed in God alright, and hated the fucker. He was glad that, for all their lack of common sense, at least they could see _that_.

"And our mechanic Kaylee." Riddick looked up at the hyperactive girl who was now almost blinding him and thrusting a hand towards him. "Nice to meet you!" she said as he slowly raised his hand to shake it, as though it would bite or poison him if he moved too quickly. He smelt anger and jealousy coming from the frail looking kid next to his sister and he almost growled. Better and better.

After the introductions were done, Riddick still felt something nagging on his mind. "And who's the sobbing girl?" That stopped them all in their tracks, before Mal rounded his head slowly towards him and asked "How'd you know about that?". "I just heard." he shrugged. River nodded. "He has good hearing."

Mal tried to find a roundabout and diplomatic answer for him, and if nothing else it would be good practice if he was ever asked by anyone that he actually had to explain himself to. "Someone River's helping, been with her for weeks, takes care of her and all. Been doing wonders for her state of mind, too. For River's, at least. River won't talk to us about her, and we think she comes from the same bastards that did what they did to River, so's as long as they stay out of trouble, which can be also said about you, we don't take issue in doing what we can for them."

Riddick ignored the jab, and instead was fixated on River. As soon as he asked, he saw ripples of sadness, guilt and shame on the girl's spectrum. That was weird. You don't feel guilty for helping out someone. He knew enough self-righteous pricks who took great pride in thinking they helped someone, and liked to display it any chance they got. He had no illusion she was any different, so what was festering inside her? Was it misguided guilt on not fixing her, or was there something more? He'd have to find out about this. The others didn't matter in the great scheme of things, he wasn't tied down in chains so they weren't a threat, but two possibly unhinged psychic pro killers with one being worse off and the other feeling guilty, that might turn out to be a problem.

* * *

As always, the cloud of knives and guns and ways to kill were at the forefront of Riddick's mind as far as she was concerned, so she couldn't read these thoughts. She should have expected this, maybe she was moving too fast, but both subjects needed to be on Serenity for her to continue to be stable and have a chance of recovery. That she didn't see that this man would upset Charlie by his simple presence until she was finally physically close to him upset her greatly, as well as her need to now constantly send those knives and guns and continuous thoughts of blood towards Charlie so he could continue to function. She thanked her lucky stars that until now, it had worked and Charlie had shut her mouth about the reason for the problems in her head. Charlie was afraid of the weapon, obviously, and had decided that ratting out an assassin that just saved your life to people who couldn't help you if they tried would only spell the end for all. She knew River had learned how to fly the ship and thus didn't need the crew, and that as long as they both lived, River would keep her clarity and sanity even during sleep, so Charlie couldn't do anything to River even with all the knowledge she had on her training. To have a chance at freedom, Charlie had to stop River from keeping her clarity, and that would only happen if Charlie were to die. Which River specifically made sure she couldn't do that to herself. So she had kept her mouth quiet even in the throws of the worst crisis, not even trying to ask help in code. After all, it meant River would know what she meant and what she wanted to do and it could have made it worse on her. A lot worse. River threatened with just how many bad memories she had of other people's thoughts and threatened her the first few day that she would unleash all of them and not let the good ones in, if she ever told anyone about her situation, and that would truly drive her insane.

But the worst of it was bound to happen since Riddick entered the ship. She felt Charlie's wail of anguish even before they stopped the armored car outside Serenity, and she knew it would take some time before she adapted to this new mind. She would eventually adapt, but it would take time. River had seen worse things than were in Riddick's mind, after all, and way more of them, so Charlie wasn't as bad off as she thought she was. It would take a lot of work tonight, but she'd have to stabilize Charlie, which would tire her. But it would still be worth it. She didn't know it would be this hard when she started, but there would be no backing out now. "The King was met, the road is set, and we all go to Rio." she mumbled without meaning to and barely noticed. She'd have to leave soon and fix things, _again, as always, _but she had to stay at least until Riddick left the table. She didn't trust the crew to say something that would send him over the edge, although Daddy had been more polite than she expected, and although she didn't see themselves slaughtered in the near future, she _did _see what was on the surface of Riddick's mind and she couldn't take the chance, even the events were tiring her. She also hoped _she_ wouldn't snap for staying around this toxic cloud. And if things weren't bad enough, she felt Charlie trying to resist the transfer of information, _now, of all times._ Still, she resolved herself to stay still and filtrate as much information as she thought was possible. She vaguely noted that Mal, Jayne and Simon had noticed her change of position and had more stiffed movements, one eye on her. Though their thoughts filled with worry was something that usually didn't bother her much anymore, it was another drop in a glass that was about to spill over. _Wrong threat to asses_, she almost mumbled, and was satisfied that she didn't say it out loud.

* * *

Riddick had also noticed, but he had decided he looked too much at her for comfort and decided that other than physically poking her, he couldn't get more out of her right now. He did have the faint impression of threat and that she'd explode if it physically did poke her. So he decided to see how far he could get with poking the crew.

"Preacher, huh?" He looked with a bored look at Book. "You seemed pretty calm when I announced myself. No fear, whatsoever, and I can smell fear. But no trace of it on you. The Companion's cracks through that cool exterior, Malcolm's the most honest, your pilot reeked from unadulterated fear, your gun has it controlled and stiff, but it's still there, your... Zoe's crushed the moment it tried to break surface, but it's probably to be expected from a former browncoat." He smirked at their faces, all changed by some degree from this revelation. "Your doctor smells of worry and sorrow and fear for others, and your mechanic is too dumb at an instinctual level to fear anything." Kaylee pouted at this, but didn't seem overly offended. The others didn't back her up, waiting to see where this tirade was going, or what had triggered it. "There's always good in people, nobody deserves to be feared." She said as she gave him a hurt look. He just ignored her and continued. "But you, Preacher? I've met a holy man and his fear stank like any other man. So what are you? I've introduced myself more honestly than I usually care too, and I don't appreciate unknown variables disguising themselves in something they're not in front of my nose." He didn't growl, but he looked straight at him, and the effect was hardly lost to his goggles. Everyone knew he was boring a whole in Book with his eyes.

"I've been a lot of things in past lives, son. Some of 'em weren't pretty, but I'm on a path of salvation now and that's the man I am." "Not your son." Riddick huffed, but seemed to drop the subject. "And you'll be what you've always been when it'll be needed. There's no holding it back." And returned to eating.

Outwardly, it was barely noticeable, but the tension in the room was greater than the day started, than even when Mal started to worry about his girls in the wrong part of town. River's position was not helping their ease, but they tried to ignore their thoughts now, if there was anything important anything said, she could sift through them the next day, and concentrated on keeping herself stable and aware of her surroundings and of the possible threat.

"Where're we going, then?" Riddick asked between gulps.

"A little rock at the outskirts of the Rim, I've been told it's a good place to unload... some recently acquired cargo-" he looked pointedly at Riddick "-not the one you brought. It's kinda hot and I'd wished we could stay planetside for longer, but with the recent... events" and now he looked pointedly at Riddick again to give him the knowledge that this time he was talking about him "and having some _more_ hot merchandise on board, I don't think it's safe to-"

"Money is safe." River said, waking from her revery, and they were all careful to not stop everything they were doing and look slowly at her. She would have rolled her eyes if she had the straight. "Not marked. Not looked for. Keep in dirty lower value bills and purchases - and sales" she tried to smile and wink at the Captain, though she wasn't sure how well she pulled it off, but well enough seeing the rest of them calmed down a bit and didn't look at her visage with revulsion "-will be made. If they wish complete certainty, she will sift through and give you for our purchases here bills that have not been created on this planet, and thus could not be tracked. Foreign currency easily changes many hands, and thus any purchase we make with those will be expectable for travelers such as us."

She barely suppressed a sigh as she finished, it had been hard not to grit her teeth, run around, sing and do a lot of other things, some too dangerous to contemplate, during her talk. While she couldn't hide her tiredness or posture while she was still, she could change her entire demeanor when she was talking, and mask it, enough for the crew to think she was well.

"Not through mine you won't be sorting." Riddick said in a conversational tone. At this time, she did roll her eyes. "I'll have to stay low anyway, but there's no hurry I suppose." He drawled towards the end.

Even so, the Captain thought otherwise about River's mannerism. At least she knew her arguments had stopped any coming from him about the validity of her plan. "We'd be grateful for that, and it may even be necessary, but how 'bout you start tomorrow? You've had a long day and you're obviously tired now, so just sleep tonight and we'll figure it out tomorrow."

"I'm fine." She replied, trying again to not grit her teeth and look nonchalant. She had so many things to do, and time seemed to have contracted. She hadn't taken into account that the Captain wouldn't trust the loot she'd bring as a good omen and just go with it, and was too paranoid and stubborn for their own good. And not enough where he really should be, she almost mused. This new situation, new proposal - _her own proposal_, just to shut him up - would tire her even more. At worst, she could just give a handful of money to each and claim they're all sorted. But she couldn't risk them checking, or worse, the Captain being right. They were less and less in a position where they could afford any more enemies or any more crumbs to their trail, and yet she'd had to resort to more and more risky gambits to not only get them out of the pursuit, but on getting ahead. She just hoped she could keep it together, almost prayed, but didn't, knowing that's when she'd crack on the outside and the impression of "crazy" would come out and everything would tumble out of control.

"Mister Riddick" Inara said with a rehearsed bored smile, "you seem to know what I am and claim to know how I... smell" she said, plastering a face of distaste that was intended to tell him he's wrong, which he noted and chuckled at, but let her continue. "But we don't know anything about you. I'm sure a man with such... skills has an interesting history." _And is more than willing to boast about them to someone he thinks he can scare shitless_, she thought, trying to put on the good-girl-interested-in-a-bad-guy look. River nearly rolled her eyes and Riddick was not buying it. She didn't need to be psychic to know that, but the rest of the crew had an inkling of what she was doing and hoped Inara would get him to open up.

"Not much to tell, really. I hate this Universe, I hate the fucker who made it, I hate anyone who'll try to manipulate me, I hate anyone who stands in my way, and what I hate usually doesn't survive long, whatever their own... credentials."

There was silence as spoons were quietly dropped on the table and food forcefully swallow. Inara was not about to give up however, prompting River to wish she'd just shut up. River realized they were on the precipice since this man came on board and the crew poking at him wouldn't do him good. And if he lost it, she didn't know how much she could hold it together herself. Her frustration, even her fear, were converting into anger already and she suspected why it was so. And it was happening too fast. She needed to get out of this dinner fast.

"And why is that?" Inara asked undeterred.

River couldn't help herself and she blurted it out, the hell with the consequences. Releasing some steam might actually do her good and they might get out of this alive anyway. Maybe. "Born with umbilical cord around neck. Everyone hate, everyone fear. Monsters under the ground." She shivered. "Worse than him. God must hate the inhabitants of the verse to create such creatures. To create him. Mercs always on his tail. At least those two could be safe from him, from the bad side of a verse." He looked at her, but gave no reaction except cocking his eyebrow. "But if he's right, the bad side is all the verse, and a place named in His honor is no safer to them, but she knows it at least buys time."

Oh yeah, he got the message loud and clear, and decided to ask her about it later. He sighed and "translated".

"Yeah, hard to trust the Universe when your own mom tries to kill you after she gave you birth." He paused to let that sink in.

"Umbilical cord..." Mal murmured, realization in his mind. The others were quicker on the uptake and swore under their breath.

"But hey, no tragedy for me, only survival and why not have fun while I'm at it? No hero either, nobody deserves it, most of ya'll as sick as the man upstairs, and this is coming from a bastard like me. Got my first kill at 12, enjoyed it, went after more. More on the food chain, why bother with the small fish? Too many of you down there, too little time for me to kill you all. They finally started wising up after I ghosted some high military. Put a bounty on me, blood kept flowing and it kept rising. Dunno why, but they never wanted me dead, only caged. Maybe they'd thought it'd hurt more. But they don't know, see? There's nothing that can hurt me, and I doubt there ever was. The prisons kept getting tighter, the guards more trigger happy and the mercs better. After a while, I decided to take it as a challenge and have my own kinds of fun with the Gov." A small smirk played on his face, and River shuddered to think what'd be through his mind at the moment. Not instinctual violence, but _directed, controlled, accepted._ Another part of her smiled, one that was just forming, not the Weapon, but something else, something she craved, that she had to accept as herself and in herself. The part that would either keep her stable, save the Girl and the Genius, or eat, burn and bury them and dance with the Weapon over the flames of the 'Verse for eternity.

"Three Max Security Planet Slams I got out of so far, and was probably on my way to a fourth. For you boys and girls in this more "civilized" parts of the 'verse that don't know what those are, they're prisons encompassing an entire planet. Can you imagine it? One rock just for us! Of course, they wouldn't use their own fancy habitable planets, oh no, they use the leftovers, the ones too hot or too cold or too far or too irradiated - you get the point. Transports come and go from there rarely, so it's the most poor bastards don't see anything else except that rock for the rest of their lives. So when I say I got out of three of 'em, you should know what that makes me."

Mal's vision turned hawkish and regarded this man and thought what he'd been through, but more importantly, what he did to leave places like that. "A very hard man." _To kill_, he continued in his mind, but couldn't bring himself to make this man feel threatened. They weren't in the black yet, but they were in the middle of the desert, and if he'd escaped uncivilized rocks, a ship or a planet like Persephone was probably just up his alley.

The others weren't too convinced, and that alerted River, who was distracting herself with their thoughts to get away from Riddick's. She looked at them and nodded, in a way that they'd know she was confirming Riddick's story and not the Captain's last line.

"So here's where it went terribly wrong - or right, if you're me and you're lucky. The merc that caught me last time put me in cryo and was delivering me God-knows-where when the ship went nuts. The fucker put me _in a colonists' ship_! How dumb is that? Maybe he'd hop a ride to something more secure once it landed... but anyway... malfunction, bad landing, jettison the cargo, bla bla bla..." he paused for a moment for them to realise what the "cargo" was, and they didn't take another breath, but just went white, even the Zoe girl lost some of her color, "and the only cargo they didn't dump was me. I found it funny at the time, but in retrospect, was probably Johns was ready to see valueless citizens dropped than his cash cow."

"Blue eyed devil didn't know who he was fucking with." River blurted.

Riddick eyed her with a small but not vicious smile, enjoying the description.

"After that, things got... complicated. Only one set of pods remained, some holy man and his kid charges and a couple waiting to be dumped in the promised land. They got a red planet with three suns."

"And monsters that come out in the dark." River murmured.

"And monsters that come out in the dark." Riddick confirmed. Damn, this girl was using metaphors, but she was _right_. And he knew she couldn't have known any of this from anyone else, only the three of them survived.

At the puzzled looks of the crew, Riddick continued. "You people believe in aliens?"

The question didn't banish all the tension, but it did lower it. Simon snorted, Mal rolled his eyes and Jayne swore. Riddick suppressed a smirk: the gun might not be the sharpest, but he had survival instincts and knew when to fold and when to run. He'd known stupid fucks that just wouldn't believe in some threat until it was literally biting them in the ass and chewing their bones. Jayne obviously knew well enough to not get into that position.

"Not little green Martians or gray humanoid abductors. Just life, livin' on another rock, eating, fucking, and all instinct." he supplied.

"They only come out in the dark." River was rocking back and forth.

Riddick didn't even bother to confirm to the others that yes, she knew what she was talking about. "And lucky us - we landed smack before a rare-shit eclipse."

"Yeah, you're all kinds of lucky." Mal deadpanned, not disbelieving this man for a moment. He knew River saw the difference between one's delusions and the reality they endured, even if she was sometimes more blind to her own. He remembered how she knew that Early was all talk, all lies, all self-importance that dried out the moment he thought he lost control of his ship. He saw now no mocking of this Riddick, only actual fear. The kind of fear, actually, that she had reserved for men of Blue and Reavers, though with all the reverence that was missing from describing her "ghosts". He wondered again, if she saw this man no better than those horrors, why had she _brought _him onboard. From the little he heard of their situation, it appeared that she had sent Zoe to the truck and then _killed men to get to him_, not to kill _him,_ but to bring him to the truck. If she heard him though, she made no sign that she did, which he found once again strange. Since Charlie was onboard, Mal and Zoe noticed that River had stopped flinching whenever they "thought too loud" about things that would have bothered her before, or even sent her in a catatonic state. That she was reacting to what her brother _said_, and not _thought_, in the same period of time, was too remarkable, but part of the same mystery. Still, this new mystery trumped everything else.

"Suffice to say" Riddick continued "out of the dozen of us, only three made it out, me included. After that, I dropped the two of them on New Mecca - that's something like what you call core worlds - and left for the fringes of Gov's influence. The farther I went though, the less of the Gov I heard, until I hear about this Alliance that's supposed to be the local space authority."

"More like local space thugs." Wash snorted. Riddick smiled. For all his lacks, he could learn to like this weasel. At least he didn't seem to have a traitor's presence.

"Dunno much of the politics, never cared for it. If it's in command and an asshole, it gets a shiv in the gut, free of charge. I feel it as my citizen's duty." Riddick growled anctiously. Mal winced, knowing what a gut wound does to a man and being sure Riddick knew full well too. Not clean, not easy, would wish it on few.

"Stayed away from mercs, just in case. Hooked up with a freelancer slash browncoat of name of Dutch."

Mal almost growled. "I know him. Crazy bastard, doesn't know the war's over. Cares more about his pockets than the cause, but prefers to take from Alliance pockets, however risky it may be. How'd you survive for long with him?" He rhetorically asked Riddick.

"Didn't." Riddick smiled. "Whose bright idea to hit that Alliance convoy do you think it was?"

Nobody needed to answer. Mal and Zoe knew Dutch was crazy enough to do it without a solid plan and trusting in luck and his skills. Usually it worked, sometimes though...

"It was some kind of smooth till then, though, at least the way I see a smooth life." Riddick continued. "Most jobs went good, they just weren't expecting us and we worked mostly on the Rim. Payoff was decent, not that I cared much for that. And all the purple-bellies to slash open. Sure, we lost a man or two from time to time, but there's no shortage of these crazy bastards banding together, some were on the run like me, fighting the Alliance only cuz they'd put them back in the slam, not for the cause or even the money."

"This was supposed to be just another regular thing. Take the guards out, take the trucks, run. But we didn't account for snipers. Good thing the loose hardware we packed had a sniper rifle, and I took them out myself." Mal, Zoe and Jayne raised an eyebrow, obviously surprised by this nonchalant description, but River nodded vigorously. Riddick saw with the back of his eye the motion and realized these people needed way too much confirmation. And he suspected the girl was in a similar position and was sympathizing. What, they never heard of Seers? He'd thought they'd be popping up like mayflies in this part of the 'verse like in his own. "But by then, most'a'my crew got hit, some dead, and the guards were racing to me, seeing me as the biggest threat. I was going to take 'em out or outrun 'em, crew and money be damned, when your girls showed up. So here we are."

"Here we are, indeed." Malcolm echoed. _Now what?_ was the thought racing through his mind.

"Well, we're about finished with our food, let's get some rest. Who's got the dishes?" Mal asked chirpily. He knew it usually wasn't him, unless he lost to the poker matches the guys were having, and the playful bickering began, Jayne at the forefront.

River bolted up and took steady, robotic moves towards her bunk. Riddick looked at her, considered following her, but thought better of it. From the way she acted and the looks of her crew, she was not having a good day, possibly from what she had seen in his thoughts. Certainly, he knew all his bravado and gory descriptions would pale to what was inside his head constantly, always reworking, always calculating, for the best angle, for the best way to make a kill. Even if the opportunity or reason or effect never came, the calculations were always in his head, and he always churned distances, actions, reactions in units of measures only he knew, and they were not for the faint of heart. He guessed even a cold hearted slam-ee would piss his pants if he took even a glimpse of what was running through his head. That these brain-damaged girls were taking the brunt of it was not comforting.

However, he understood the Captain's reasoning, finished his meal and went to his bunk. He'd get more out of all of them the next day, one way or another.

* * *

**AN**: Sorry I took so long to update, but this chapter spiraled out of control and I decided to end it here, although the ideas I had for it will probably fill a next chapter too.

Next time: the experiment goes on.

_Rachet_, yeah, that chapter just evolved in humor. Seeing it through Mal's blunt, but not too clear eyes, it became more fun to write it.

_Z_, thanks for sharing my sentiments. I've seen the power from the game on the wiki when I was doing some research on Riddick, and I'm considering how to introduce that ability and Shirah. River's still going to read Riddick, but not as easy-peasy he's-my-rock calm thoughts as I've seen before. She'll handle it more like a necessary toxic substance, she'll let it cut into Charlie's brain and read from the mess that's left over, and leave most of the mess there too.

_R Coots_, thanks for dropping by a review, loved your works, I don't remember if I dropped a review there before making an account. I do apologize for the multitude of "her"s, I did hope it was self-explanatory, but I don't know if I'll change it (in the text I added so far, at least). Some confusion may be useful to cloud future events for the readers.

These might be the more fun(ny) chapters in the story, or there may be others, I'm not sure yet. I'm not saying that it's going to turn dark, just that the story will progress and the characters will turn on the heat on each other. Let's see how it goes.


	7. Beginning

River returned to her bunk, mechanically, carefully. She could hear from here Charlie's distress, that was thankfully dying out as Riddick was heading to the other side of the ship. Sometimes distance mattered and sometimes it didn't, and she was glad this was one where it mattered. It wasn't as Riddick was intentionally making them feel uncomfortable, she actually suspected the opposite, as she had predicted he'd confront them the first chance he'd have, which happened to be after dinner, but he instead went directly to his cabin and she could already hear him exercising the food he'd ate and turning any possible fat into more muscle. With at least one problem _postponed, _and not remotely solved, she let herself in and closed the door.

She was tired, but at least not hungry and arranged herself in her usual lotus position, trying to relax and let all the frustration and worry out. Of course, all of it fell in the river, which in the past she knew was foolish to do, since it would just fall on someone who would hear everything anyway, which would have been her. But now it fell on someone else, and River was surprised to not hear any more violent or scared reactions from next to her. It seemed Riddick's mind really was a piece of work that considerably outweighed her in intensity. And now she was going to study it, see what he wanted from them, what he may have thought he was _entitled _to. She remembered Captain Daddy's thoughts at the table on _what exactly was she thinking bringing him aboard _if he was all he claimed he was, and more, she mused. Indeed, it was risk, it was, at least in part, an unknown quantity with a quality all of its own, but in theory at least, two weapons were better than one, especially for the dangers she foresaw. If something happened to her, at least she hoped Riddick would stay with them and protect them where she couldn't. She knew the probabilities for this were minimum, but then again, so was he returning to the red planet to rescue people that didn't matter to him then.

She cleared those thoughts as she attempted the first of the second tasks of the night, arguably the most easy of the two. After all, she had general knowledge of Riddick and his history, and it seemed enough to unnerve him, at least some of the times, and to show her worth and power, the few things he'd respect. But checking thouroughly on his take on the events of the last few days wouldn't hurt, the future was already too blurry to her liking and he acted too different from what he thought and what the world expected of him.

So much to do, so little time, but she had a feeling it would all work out, and she had redundancies in case not all would go according to plan. She relaxed, floated above the river and slowly, methodically, danced her way in Charlie's mind.

It looked like a war zone, an open wound, unweilded weapons striking into themselves and the environment without care, without relenting, without aim. The surface of Charlie's brain looked a little like the red planet itself now, only the atmosphere was also red and she could only see the cold black above, no suns yet no darkness. She was surprised not to find any of the monsters battling the weapons, but then again, Riddick wouldn't be thinking of them either as threats or as weapons, and they did not haunt his dreams like the Reavers haunted hers. No, she heard through the filters his thoughts of Carolyn, of how he wanted things to have ended different, of his unspoken anger not that it wasn't _him_ in her place, for he very much wished to live to continue his way of life, but that she didn't just jump in the fucking ship and leave the others, like she'd done when she landed. Just him and her, in the black, now those were comforting thoughts even for her, even laced with sorrow as they were. She was mildly disappointed that Charlie hadn't latched onto those memory for balance. She heard a faint whimper from the room next door, which surprised River, because it would take a lot for Charlie to be bothered by anything else at this point. It almost felt like Charlie was upset or afraid of River's disappointment and took it more to heart than the knives and other, darker things. That was interesting.

Slowly, carefully, she made her lithe way through the desolated landscape, shielding herself to the worse of it, concentrating to let only the memories of the last few days of Riddick's life pass into her, and struggling to remove all associations to... other thoughts. It would dim her understanding on his exact thoughts on those events, but she had come to the conclusion that Riddick was hard to read, whatever the means or the reader. That would at least come in useful if they ever encountered any like her on opposite sides.

They were more vague than she'd have liked, but they had to do, they were almost enough. Not much she couldn't realize from his body language, but some of his actions were useful to know. She saw foggy reactions between Dutch's crew and Riddick, how he was always on the outside, never trusted, little more than a lone wolf, but not considered much more than that. There was some frustration in Riddick, but then again, she saw he had gotten used to it, and he wasn't a pack animal at heart. He was made and had been molded to be the ultimate and only of his kind, the most superior creature, to rule the sheep, not join them, not even understand them unless he chose to, mostly just to dictate them and stamp out anything that stood in his way. So his surprise and amusement at _Serenity_'s crew came as a welcomed contrast to her. He was still a little unnerved by all the trust and maybe even kindness, blinded by the Sunshine - River mentally amused herself with using her as a literal weapon against him, but it would probably not do much and would be less productive than just ripping his goggles off his eyes if it came to that -, comforted that they could fear, uncomforted that Book couldn't. She reluctantly delved into his calculations in the crew prowess, saw how he had parted them into combatants and civvies, how he had assessed their possibilities for survival (especially, but not reduced to, against him), who he could afford to keep if things went south, and she was mildly relieved to see at least Sunshine, Wash and Inara making into his short list of survivals. She saw he still had his reluctance on Inara's abilities, but that he had decided she would be cowered into line if it came to that like the other two.

Memories swelled and swerved and reduced, and she took more glimpses. Of the assholes as he thought of them of Dutch's crew, and she was glad Simon hadn't chosen one like his. Of how he didn't regret leaving that crew, as Dutch had dug his own hole, and none of Dutch's "trusted" ones had voiced any thoughts against the last job that went so bad he had been lucky he didn't get out with any new holes. His thought of if they'd ever want to retaliate, but again, that'd have been justified only if the job went well, and Riddick had left anyhow. He knew the rules of the jungle, and hoped Dutch was wise enough to listen to them too. When something goes wrong, every man for himself. River frowned at this, but it was expected for Riddick to think as such. She continued watching, looking, aimless until she found something interesting to latch onto.

She finally found his thoughts on her. By this time, sweat was covering her and her eyes were closed, and it wasn't even the worst, or in the least, the most demanding part. She felt no fear or anxiousness in his assessment in her, and she was happy he didn't realize she could become unstable in certain circumstances. She had no illusions this would not come out in the open eventually, but she clung to the fallacious theory of first impressions, and that keeping herself stable more would influence his overall view. She saw his amusement that she shared his lack of fear of those like him, his surprise as he put two and two together regarding her intervention to take him out of there. She knew he wouldn't have died, and maybe even wouldn't have got shot, but he didn't need to know that, yet. He wouldn't believe it anyway. He saw his interest of Charlie and River's reaction to him mentioning of Charlie, and his deduction regarding the relationship between the two girls. Dammit, he'd saw the guilt. The worry could be interpreted, but not the guilt. She assumed the guilt _could_ too, maybe, a misguided reaction to a small little thing, but she knew he didn't see her as such, and didn't think in those terms about people anyway. Size, shape, form, they didn't mean as much as what they could do, didn't mean at all in comparison to who they really were inside and what they were capable. After all, he'd seen that even a cornered civilized civilian could let out the most unthinkable things only to survive, and he would be both fascinated and weary of such reactions, sometimes cutting them in the bud. He didn't take unnecessary risks just for fun, after all, whatever the 'verse said about him.

Having seen enough, she made rudimentary changes to Charlie's consciousness so she could adapt to Riddick's thoughts faster and better, and to be able to drown the worst thoughts in the river. River felt a whimper of gratefulness from Charlie's cabin, and soon Charlie was sleeping as peacefully as she could have.

Now for the second part. She loathed it, but it needed to be done. She moved her mind towards Riddick, towards the storm of knives and swords and other strange weapons, some looking like claws and thinks she couldn't have imagined before. She ignored them, bypassed them and entered the raw darkness, yet soothing, calm, of the inside this shell of violence. Her skin crawled and her brow furrowed, but she continued. She couldn't and wouldn't want to _take_ this, just share it, make it part of herself, tie it to her. And so she did. For its color in her mind's eye, it burned like a sun, like a nuclear explosion through time and space, like nothing she had felt before. The Furya in her mind was weak at this distance, far away. This part of Furya in Riddick though, it was more than she expected. More than she would ever need. She almost trembled as she let that thing build a home in herself, using merely the power of her mind to both welcome it, nurture it and protect the Girl and the Genius from it, because otherwise it would engulf them all, leaving nothing more than a Reaver in her place, a Weapon controlled by fury. The Weapon realized it saw its match and felt delight for probably the first time in its existence. The Girl kept her in her place and continued to mold a new Girl, a new Thing, a new Animal, like the owners of Blue created the Weapon. And it was imbued with the fury and goals of Furya. River did not mind, she took the gift that was given to her, and knew how to use it well.

Simon had had a... complicated day, but it at least started well and ended well, facts he was starting to be grateful to, and that he hoped his life and River's would take a similar pattern. It had been a day filled with honest, though petty work, and as honest as the crew of the Serenity had in handling contraband, but it was rewarding in its own way, reminding him of the working of the land, only in a space ship. With crates of weapons and contraband.

He almost started worrying about his sister when sunset was close, but he told himself to trust her, after all she had made incredible progress the last couple of weeks. He suspected it either had to do with the events of Miranda finally giving her a backbone she could trust herself, or maybe taking care of Charlie. Neither of the girls were now on medication, River because she had refused after Miranda and she didn't give him any excuse to need to give her anything, and Charlie because River insisted the other girl shouldn't be disturbed and that River had the same medical knowledge and experience Simon had if there was some need to help Charlie, and more intelligence to apply what he knew to someone of Charlie's condition. And since he didn't know what they did to Charlie, he trusted in River's superior knowledge and competence. It mildly surprised and bothered Simon that River had never said anything about Charlie's "condition", even River would tell about her own experiences when pressed enough, though in incoherent riddles. Charlie talked like that too, but the stories were too similar to River's - sometimes identical - for Simon to suspect she may have been relating River's traumas and hiding her own even deeper. It surprised him more that in such situations, River seemed unperturbed, sometimes even more serene than he'd ever seen her before. His guess was that River had learned to cope and hearing Charlie was therapeutic to her, but a part of him thought something was amiss. Still, as long as it worked, he couldn't and wouldn't complain. He'd been through worse for his sister and she was his reason to live this life that he admitted he didn't dislike as much as he expected he would, and having his theories scrambled or thrown out the window meant little as long as River was showing clear, practical signs of improvement. He thought that if the price for River's sanity would mean a stranger's lack of improvement for the rest of their lives, it wasn't a choice at all. He had been witness to people getting killed for what he considered less, after all. A tang of guilt hit him then, but did not regret his thoughts.

Back in her bunk, a tired and sweaty River smiled. He would understand. It was a start at least.

But the day's end heralded some... weirdness, in a way. His possibly precognitive sister had brought them a stranger, to be their bodyguard he supposed, or maybe because she had foreseen - or calculated? - an event when he would be needed. She called him names he didn't understand, and he had started to learn lately that what she was saying had some implications, they were metaphors, of things that had been or that will be. "They didn't listen to the girl" was of course her usual "I told you so" to the crew when they ignored her, and even he was starting to learn her predictions needed analyzed not just from her psychological point of view, but from something akin to reading in tea leaves and interpreting the signs. Simon, man of logic, was uncomfortable with this, but would not bulk away from helping his crew, implicitly to help his sister.

And probably more shocking than all, more than the man's unabashed self description, River had told him everything about her in a phrase that took less than 10 seconds to tell. She had risked them all with that nonchalance of hers, but Simon had to trust her, and so did the crew. He had to believe she said it because she knew Riddick wouldn't throw a fit or turn them in, and not on a whim. On the other hand, the man was a self-declared ex convict. On the other other hand, the Alliance wasn't searching for him, so he could make a lot of money after turning her in. He had been mildly surprised then that Riddick didn't laugh in her face or done the math and taking her over his shoulder and run off with a prize someone on the run would find close to invaluable. But that proved another problem, because if he didn't instinctually act, he was thinking. He was calculating. He was going to stay with them for his sister, and Simon was uncomfortable for Riddick's motivations for her.

What Riddick had said at the table, how he tried to unnerve them all, had not been lost to Simon either.

Richard B. Riddick headed through his bunk, trying to make sense of the day, or the end of it. It had been an interesting day, and even an interesting crew, different, much much different from Dutch's. They weren't "professionals" as Dutch would have liked to believe himself, though Riddick realized the word for the difference was "hardened" (and why not, pompous assholes). They felt fear and showed it remarkably often, insecurities, they revealed this way too obviously, though he was glad they at least didn't _revel_ in it and tried to control themselves and their outward reactions - and failed miserably, in his not-too-humbled opinion. They were sheep, sailing through a sea of wolves, but at least aware of it and not as naive as they either seemed or tried to project. Well, at least except the Sunny girl, that one had way too many trusting bones in her body for her own good, and a few too little self-preservation bones, to say the least. He almost huffed, she wasn't even worth the effort, to either scare or save, depending on the circumstances. Now, Zoe, was the second best prey on the ship, and River... predator or pray? He remembered how stiff she was at the table, like something made her uncomfortable, his presence maybe, even if he felt she wasn't frightened of him. And they all had secrets, though he guessed most were petty little things, maybe a few weren't. He would let things be until they naturally came to him, or until he "naturally" scared a few of the secrets out of the crew. It was what he did, what he was good at, unnerve them, manipulate them, ask without asking and get the answers without posing questions as normal people knew were posed. He'd done it a million times before, with people ranging from the rich to the lowest low-lives. Sooner or later, Most Wanted Man In The 'Verse or not, they'd know who Richard B. Riddick was. Or at least, who he let them think he was. He smirked: and then, it would be glorious.

Riddick entered his bunk and examined it with a bored eye: nothing he hadn't seen in countless ships before, and a little more comfortable than some, par the course for most. It seems, humanity, in whatever part of the 'verse it ended up in, wasn't too luxurious with its cabin, and there was so much they could do with an all-metal ship that sometimes needed to fight or flee unwanted situations. A bed was there, but then again, he didn't need it, except maybe to use the wood to keep the cold from the metal floor out of his bones. Maybe put the sheets on the floor and sleep there.

He started exercising like he was used to, like he spent most of his life. Free or caught, his schedule was roughly the same, and even his life, he figured. Caught in a metal cage, some more gilded than others, training for the day when he'd put his skills to good (and fun) use. He wasn't much for open spaces either, if he'd get stuck dirt-side, he'd probably have to find either a house - a wood cage - or a cave - a stone cage. Such was humanity's weakness that he both disliked and had saved his life on more than one occasion: to trap themselves so they could live a few more days to either do what they had to do, or keep themselves trapped there for the rest of his lives. Riddick prided himself in at least choosing in which cages to stay and which to leave, such had become his "freedom" over the course of his life, and how not to stay in one cage too much, to not dull the blade in him.

His mind drifted to open green space, savage things, both livable and dangerous, both fun and un-fun, something akin to what he'd think of as home if he really wanted a home and really wanted to stay in one. The images became more vivid, and something in him growled, then he growled himself. He tried to keep his emotions in control while doing his push-ups - _fuck_, he thought, _I'm barely half a day on this ship, might as well not scare 'em half to death from the first hours, plenty of time to do that later_ - but something swelled up in him, growing bigger and bigger***, emotions that almost overwhelmed him: remorse, longing, acceptance, gratitude, need for flight or fight. The process was already forming even as he told it to slow up, to calm down, but the thing under his skin was having none of that. It raged and it roared and it almost made the body do the same, and Riddick told it and himself to stop it, that it was not pain, that he didn't care for any of it, that his body and soul and whatever else was in him didn't need to convert it into adrenaline, and he was now pumping faster and faster, more enraged by the moment, more akin to spread violence. Images came almost unbound to him now, of his world, of its destruction, of a raging _thing_ that was the soul of the planet, of _Furya_, of how it howled for revenge, howled for a master, a King, over its not-desolate yet boring world (as much as a death world could be).

And then he saw her, the little girl, the little assassin, the little reader, the little Seer, _**the little witch**_, soaring over the world, dancing to its tune, looking somehow at both Furya and him, and he almost snapped.

In his mind, he went to her throat, but nothing happened, it was as if she was immaterial, yet he knew that somehow, she was to blame. She was directing this little concert and made him dance to his rage whether he chose to or not.

Fine, she wanted it, she had it. She couldn't be touched in his mind? She was just a few steps and leaps on the outside. He stopped his exercises, came to full height and let out a roar that echoed throughout the ship. A second later, he was at the door, almost ripping it out of its hinges - all hundreds of pounds of it - and stalked, bound and leaped to the girl's - the witch's, he reminded himself - dwelling.

Simon entered their common room, which he had been thinking of vacating, now that his relationship with Kaylee had progressed and River did not need constant attention. River would have smiled in any other situation, maybe even congratulate him and maybe creeping him a little, but now she had more important things on her mind.

The room was dimly lighted, an improvisation River had made some time after bringing Chalie onboard, ostensibly to cut down on power consumption, for better hiding in the black when it necessitated, and to "protect their eyes". Of course, it wasn't her current eyes she was worried about...

As Simon entered the room and tried to turn the lights to full to prepare for the night, River uncharacteristically growled.

"Keep the lights as they are."

Simon didn't exactly startle, but he looked towards her and he had the impression she'd just left a war behind - or had she even left it? She looked disheveled, tired, worn out, yet was still in her meditation stance. He wondered the reason for it, she was getting better, wasn't she? Could she be relapsing? He tried to banish these thoughts away, remembering how River had explained these past weeks how his distressed thoughts had made it worse when she was already... volatile. So had his redundant questions, she had added. But now, she gave no signs of reading him, as had happened the past few weeks since Charlie came on board. Simon's thoughts drifted back to the Charlie situation. River redirected them to Charlie, as she did the past few weeks, and felt Charlie welcoming them as a reprieve from Richard's thoughts. Now she almost did smile.

Some time passed, and Simon noticed the battle inside River continued, punctuated by moans*** and growls and sweat liberally flowing from and over her. Then, a growl almost rocked the ship, and Simon's first reaction was to look at River, but it didn't come from her. Almost immediately, River replied, though not what he was expecting.

"Don't interfere. This conversation must take place. When he enters, leave and lock the door." She opened her eyes, and he thought he saw something _glowing, moving_, like quicksilver, around her pupils, her irises, blurring, flashing the whites of her eyes. He didn't know what he wanted to do then, to yell, to scream, to shake her out of it, but he decided to listen to her, his sister, his genius sister that knew more than him, more than anybody, more than River-that-was that he knew and love, more than simple instinct or coincidences from madness could explain. His eyes involuntarily drifted to the rest of her face, and her mouth had a sickle grin, just for two or three second, which almost made him release his bladder. Not even Riddick had this effect on him, at least, he knew River was on his side and could break every bone in Riddick's body if she wanted to, but River looking like that, like a bloodthirsty Reaver... that was a new kind of scary for the former Core doctor, hardened now from fighting an oppressive government.

* * *

**Notes:**

*** While I make some intentional inuendos (that may never pan out, but I think they're at least interesting or funny in the context), anything marked with three stars means that particular phrase _may_ be interpreted, but should not, and that I didn't mean anything other than its literal meaning.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

And another one late, that I expected to be shorter and may arrive in two parters again. I'd like to update once a week, but I don't know if I'll be able. I've had other ideas and I may start other stories. On the other hand, I have enough time until (and possibly during) the holidays, so that means more potential energy in writing. Not all potential energy turns into actual energy, so it's just potential hope. All I can give you.

_Rachet: _I'm glad to read that. In any case, the Interlude didn't reveal everything, only some essential outcomes that cannot/will not be changed.

Speaking of the middle, I've been thinking, and if I'd have to split it into bigger parts, we're still into the first act, which is still centered around introductions and getting to know each other. The second one will be on the crew actually seeing what Riddick can do and a journey to... you'll find out where and why. The third will be one of culmination points that hopefully won't negate each other's effects, very likely stretched over a few chapters. The fourth act would be things settling down, and possibly a fifth of more or less aimless-going epilogue (because I haven't really consider to what would happen after all the threads converge and resolve themselves).

So in principle, the second and third acts would be the middle.


	8. Confrontation

Simon heard loud clamps on the floor heading towards them, and braced himself for what was to come and what he was to do. He had an unwelcome suspicion of the only person on the ship who would go on a berserking rampage towards his sister. His thoughts were confirmed a second later when their door was almost ripped off the hinges by a stone cold exterior, yet boiling interior of a man. The crew seemed to have taken notice of the commotion, yet they weren't moving fast enough, and they didn't knew Riddick's goal. Simon absently noticed River had resumed her meditation calm closed-eye stance, even if he suspected it was now only pretense. Of course, he realized, she knew he would be coming and she could have run or pretended to do something else at the moment - she had done it before with both him and the crew and he now understood her ways of hiding and sometimes pretended to ignore them. Now, though, there was no pretense in her, or at least the only pretense was of her not being as dangerous as him.

Simon saw Riddick quickly scan the room, locking his eyes on River, grabbing her by the throat like a predator from Earth-that-was would immobilize its prey, and threw her to the wall on his back, all in less than a second, leaving Simon almost dumbfolded and momentarily frozen in his tracks.

"_**What did you do to me?**_" Riddick growled, keeping her pinned to the wall, and slowly taking his goggles off. Simon could see a glitter, a silvery glitter, almost like quicksilver, but not like what he saw in River's eyes, these ones were stable, boring and scary as anything Simon had ever seen. As the Doctor/Scientist in him who wanted to ask a million questions was fighting with the Brother's concern, he knew River wanted it this way and tried to keep his promise, moving towards the door while keeping an eye on them. At that moment, River's scythe smile reappeared and opened her eyes, showing the same unstable, mercury, moving silver on her eyes as it did a few moments ago - if Simon thought he was seeing things back then, he was convinced now. He rushed to the door, closed it, then instinctively locked it with the code only River knew. He slumped on the wall in front of the door, his reasoning brain catching up to him, reminding him that River had fiddled with much of the electronics in their bunk, and that now River was locked in there, and only she now knew how to open it, not even Kaylee being able to bypass it. He saw Mal and Zoe heading towards him, faces stern, questions in their eyes. He had no answers to give and no wish to stay close to the cabin, not wanting to know what physical contact would happen between the two and not keen to know if it would result in violence, who'd be the worst off and if it were violence he was fearing or... something else. River wished Riddick there, alone, with her, after all, and Simon knew she had a great will to live, so he knew she wouldn't endanger her own life, and as he was, without a syringe for emergencies on him anymore, he was helpless and would have probably proven to be a liability and a weakness to her. He had done his brotherly duty by respecting her wishes, as he kept trying to make up for the times that he had been later told that did things against River's will and even her well being, and if his services as a Doctor would be needed, they knew where to find them. He went to Malcolm, took him by the shoulder, and directed him to the medbay, ignoring his perplexed look and Zoe's uncharacteristically indecisive reaction.

* * *

River was pinned to the hard metal wall by this thing of rage, yet she did not fear. He could literally rip her in two*** or more pieces, yet she had to risk his rage. If worse came to worst, she could tap into his mind, into the fury, and take his adrenalined haze into her, painful and dangerous as that may be. This would end abruptly, maybe with his death and Furya's unending rage now directed at her. One more enemy for her and the crew was not a happy prospect, yet she would do it if she had to. Of course, the question remained, could she succeed even if she was able and willing? Passing these thoughts, she answered, savage smile still on her face.

"Does it trouble you, Furyan? Did I block or took anything from you? I think not. I think I gave you more, opened doors, let your past flood you. Are you not strong enough to keep it in check?" She purred, teasingly.

Riddick just held her there, just watching her. No vision or scent of fear in the air, at least since her brother left. And her eyes... though he couldn't see _their_ colors, he could see something moving there, some color he couldn't recognize, something that reminded him of his own eyes when he looked in a mirror, except in her, it _moved_. It was unstable, he concluded, while he was born with it, she wasn't, hers were... had been... taken? _Took anything from you?_ her words flashed against his brain. Yes, she took, but he still had the same vision, the same skills... took... her smile looked like his, when he enjoyed... well, when he enjoyed doing things like he wanted to do right now, because of her.

He put a hand on his head and let her go, putting his goggles back on. Finally he restrained himself and looked at her, seeing her right where he left her, back on the wall, watching him like he had watched her.

"Didn't answer my question, girl." he growled.

She almost giggled, he saw that, but she didn't, and she thought on what to say. "We... shared." She answered, a little more meekly.

A thought came unbidden to his mind. "If I were weaker, you would have took and left me for dead."

She smiled, sweetly, this time. "Needs must." Was her reply. "But you weren't, and I didn't insist."

"Oh? And how do I know you're not still doing... what you've been doing until now?"

"You broke my concentration." She huffed in answer and seemed to pout. He didn't know whether to strangle her or laugh at her changing personality.

"How'd I stop it? The rage? What you unleashed." He asked, not really expecting a decent answer, but trying his luck with another question to the _**witch**_. The word lighted his fire and he was almost on her again, but controlled himself. If he let go, she would win, and there probably be no one to tell him what had been done to him, though he realized she had implied it may not have been a bad thing. He almost agreed. He'd either been enraged by very sad and unwanted things to get to this state, or been happy out of his mind with the thrill of the hunt and the adrenaline to get into such a state. Now, a little _witch _had stirred everything so hard to stir, so hard to make him feel alive, in less than an hour, only with her mind and who else knew what other methods.

"It gets easier. You just control it. You just live with it." She answered in a matter-of-face tone, though laced with pity and sadness. He wanted to growl, but he didn't bother. He heard the rest of the crew gathering in the mess hall, smelled the boiling rage and some fear that had gripped all of them, heard their incessant whining, noted that they ignored the doctor to bitch among themselves. Maybe staying here longer was not a good idea. Maybe he should just unleash the animal, the rage, the feeling consuming him, and rip them all apart.

Maybe he should tell her that.

"Why shouldn't I just kill you all and leave, with or without _this_?"

She knew he meant it. She knew what she would say would be dangerous to her health and her future. One more risk. One more chance. One more possibility to go forward or force everything to end.

"Jack." She almost whispered, but Riddick was on her again, putting her on the same spot she had been seconds ago. He growled, close to her face.

"Threatening what's mine ain't doing you any favors."

"Not threats. Warnings. Jack will look for you. And what's the easier way to find the most wanted man in the verse?" She talked to him in that monotone voice, unscared, unemotional. He said nothing and waited for her point.

"Mercs." She supplied for him. He growled and almost howled, wanting to tear her to little bits, wanting to tell her nobody's dumb enough, but then again, Jack had acted like Riddick was a Godsent, or at least that the devil was a nice enough fellow to those that accepted his minions. If Jack had seen in Riddick a decent man, she'd think all low-lives would have pity and mercy on her. He knew the verse too well to know she was wrong.

He also knew River wanted him on this ship and was, if not threatening him, blackmailing with this truth to stay with her. Obviously, the question was why.

"Why should I stay with you for it, then? What's stopping me from doing what I feel like and then check your likely story? Who's gonna stop me, girl? You?" He gave a savage smile between the growlings.

"He needs the girl." She replied in the same non-bothered tone. "Time and timing is important. Too soon and he'll think all is well and will leave Jack to the jackals. Too late and he'd have to track them, his way, _the old fashioned way._ I can get you at the right time, at the right place, when she's ready to make her decision. When she'll be expecting mercs, she'll have a more than pleasant surprise." She smiled sweetly again. "There is no guarantee you would retrieve her alone... at least, not undamaged." She continued in a slow, monotonous tone.

Riddick let her go again and started pacing around the room. He couldn't think straight, his blood roared for someone else's blood, anyone else's, for that adrenaline to drown out the fury, while his mind warred with what he'd been told. This Seer girl, she could be an asset, but she also unleashed something that he didn't knew he had, or if he did, he didn't care much about it except at the level of the advantages it could bring him. Now _it_ was flooding him, with images he didn't remember, with hunts both so pitiful and so exhilarating, with kills of violent and beautiful monsters and roars of freedom and winning. With the outcast of the weak and the glorification of the strong. All he believed in, thinking it was all him, now he was no longer sure where his entire being had come from and fooled him it was his, that it was him. He saw men with black, dead eyes, everything they'd hated, his race, himself, the planet too, wiping all human life on Furya. He'd seen his own people fighting to the death, feral, happy to die in glory against such a vast and ugly empire. They had dealt a strong blow, kept these dead things in the shadow once more, sent them reeling, but the price was as great. The humans on the planet, the Furyans, had been wiped out, and Furya raged. But it did not do so as a normal planet would, it did not spit molten rock and volcanoes, it did not make its surface unbearable, it did not show its hand. Instead, it seethed under the vail of calm, like Riddick wanted to do now, like he'd done so many times over, like it was so hard now. But he held on to the memory that he'd never seen, and learned to control his outside, the signals he'd give. If the girl told the truth, he would still need her, and considering the relationships between the crew, her on this ship.

He felt he had calmed down and started to walk away, but her next words made him stop in his tracks.

"That is not all. The mongers... the dead ones... they follow you. All the worlds you've been to, and then the ships you tread on... something happened during the Purge. Their race's future has been tied to yours. I don't know if it was their will, the Elementals', or Furya's, but it happened. After Jack..." she trailed off.

"The holy man." He sighed and walked away to his bunk, feeling tired all of a sudden. That night he'd sleep as soundly as he hadn't in years.

Back in the mess hall, the spirits were still high. Mal was asking about the source of the roar, as if it hadn't been obvious. Simon just sat there and waited, deciding to go to his bunk after everyone cooled down and started asking him questions. Kaylee was worried, which bothered Simon. Mal was as clueless, and Zoe seemed nervous, which unnerved the others. Inara was also worried, but mostly for herself and maybe for Mal, while the Preacher was worried for the rest of them, but had a weird sort of trust in Riddick's character that he couldn't explain. Wash was grinning stupidly, a sign that he was very scared of what and who they brought onboard. River was not here, but few noticed or bothered to ask. Jayne was grim and not really trigger happy, and only Simon, Book and Zoe noticed this, which troubled them even more.

Eventually, the spirits calmed down, and Mal, as clueless as before, asked again in exasperation.

"So nobody's got any idea what's going on on my ship?"

River arrived, quietly yet taking everyone's eyes and breath. She looked eerie, gliding towards them quietly. She stopped and stared at them.

"Tomorrow. Everyone's tired now, need to sleep. No danger."

Mal was reluctant, but after Inara made a tea for everyone - and to River's joy, spiked with something to make them relax and feel sleepy - and they left for bed, resting, unbeknown to them, as soundless and as strongly as Riddick. River didn't wait for this to happen and went to Simon, suggesting him he should change his rooming arrangements with Kaylee. He assured him that if he asked, she'd be happy to agree to share a bunk. After all, she said, it wasn't anything the both of them hadn't seen about each other before. Simon blushed and said he would consider it, the encounter with Riddick momentarily forgotten, and she left before he could ponder more. He would return to his old bunk that night, but he wouldn't bother River. She had to sleep soundly too and train her body to wake up the moment the first person on board did. Just in case.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** This is more or less the ending of Act I. As you may have seen, River just poked an itch in Riddick that he has to scratch, and they'll have to go and find and recover Jack, Imam and his family. There'll be some adventures after that, then some true action will begin.

I'm thinking of reorganising _Interlude _sometimes in the near future and adding to it a bit. I'm also thinking of writing down some more ideas about _Firefly _I had in other stories, but I'll try not to let that get in the way of this story. Hope you enjoyed it so far.

I'm also looking for a beta reader who to correct any possible grammatical errors I may have forgotten or not noticed. I don't think I need help with where the plot should go, _but_ if whoever wants to be beta is willing to rewrite the wording of my River-speak to make it sound more smart-y and use appropriate technical language, that'd be great. Contact me if you're willing to help, thanks.


	9. Interlude: Alpha & Omega

**Author's Note: LOTS OF ENDING SPOILERS (or at least giant hints) after Riddick's POV. You might want to skip that part (Riddick's part is safe for spoilers) until the story is finished, and you're on your second read, or you should read it directly after the ending.** I considered making another chapter just for Riddick's POV, but I just didn't have enough material for an entire new chapter. Maybe I'll reorganize later. I'm writing it now because it's on my brain and I want to keep it on virtual paper.

Also, slight reorganization of chapters, chapter 10 will be up in a couple of hours. Thanks for the continued feedback and follows.

* * *

_My momma didn't try to ghost a fool for a kid. They might think I don't know much, but I know enough to survive. I know enough to give God, that woman that gave me birth and the rest of the 'verse the finger by continuing living. And trust me, it's not easy, they don't make it easy._

_I know a fucking witch when I see one. Seer, Reader, all those stupid titles amount to the same thing. Believers and scientists aren't that different, they both wear their robes of office and think they wield power, they think they have the answers to everything, through their own trade and nobody else's. Until the shit hits the fan and they hit the wall, the unknown, the new, the uncontrollable. They call it force of nature or act of God or statistical abnormality, trying to justify it, quantify it. That's denial. After there's bargaining, then fear, pants pissing often included. Fear that they realize they can't just put it in a box and lid it. Oh, they can try, they tried it with me and others, but the box pops open with righteous fury sooner or later. Fear is my trade though, not even witches have rights over it. I know what I am, that I'm not far off from them. I'm monster, animal, beast. They didn't teach me that, I learned despite of them._

_So I know this girl is a witch, and I know you tread as lightly with them as you do with me, or you fight something like the monsters. She wants something from me, they all do, all who aren't afraid of me and actually want me hanging around. I don't know what it is, but I don't like it and I'm not sure going along with it is useful for my continued existence, for my power to give the finger the powers that be through my continued survival. She says she sees I'll be a king, king over all the known 'verse if I got it right, but I don't trust her. She plays with my head like I could never do with hers, the only advantages I had over her she squashes: she's not afraid of me, and she doesn't read me on contact. Smart. She knows what's in my head and stays away, and probably "updates" her information once she's secluded in that bunk of hers. She sends me to the other part of the ship, so I won't disturb her dreams. She's planned this in detail. I don't know if to admire her for it or to gut her already and cut loose. I wonder what she's hiding next to that bunk of hers, that screaming girl Charlie, who can feel more the closer I am to her, and can't block my thoughts and her reactions like this River girl._

_But River is struggling to keep me out. I saw this in her body language tonight. The only time she reacted with any truth in her movement, was when I brought up Charlie. She played a game with the crew, making them think she was well when she talked, but nothing changed in her colors, in her smell. For all her physical queues she was just as stone set as when she was standing still. She was a powder keg waiting to explode, waiting for a fuse. Maybe I should have lit it. Maybe I still should. That brother of hers is her weakness, maybe some of the crew too. I'm not risking my ass on Charlie unless I have to, there'd be no use threatening someone who probably has the same skills as River._

_River is obviously the top bitch on this ship, has influence over the captain, though that's to be expected. I can see how a leader would be interested in the idea of a mind reading assassin on board to tell him what's good and what's not good for them. And they seem to be listening, at least some of the time. They didn't listen to me on that rock when I told them about worse things than me. A seer would have simplified things. Then again, she could have cost me my chances of escape or even survival. That's the odds I have against me now, a planet full of killer creatures or a psycho family in the black is not that different, not where I'm concerned at least. I know how easy those that claim to have the best intentions can turn on you if they think they're threatened. And whoo-wee, did I show my hand tonight. I'm only surprised the brother didn't have a sissy fit in their impromptu meeting and decided to shut his mouth about what happened._

_And what the girl said about those two... why did I care? Why have I said they're mine? They didn't mean anything to me. If things were marginally different, they would have left me there to rot. I only got them out to honor Carolyn's last wish, as unintended for her to be that as it may have been. Honor. Humph. Might get me killed one day if I keep thinking with that useless part of the brain._

_I'm not much a fan of ownership, either. You get what you need to survive, if the rest of the 'verse would think like that, it'd be a lot less fucked up. People kill for things or other people they think are theirs too often, and more often than not die themselves for those things eventually. If I lose a shiv, I can always make another, if I lose money, I can always take what I want. Those rich fucks think they have power, but on a one on one, their sweet spot gets opened faster than any of those they think are their inferiors. I've tested that time and time again._

_So here I am. Where I was all my life. Where I feel alive. The last months took their tole on me. I probably committed the worst crime of all. I got civilized. Back in the game. For survival. For pleasure. For the adrenaline. Things are interesting. Whether this'll kill me or make me stronger only time may tell. But then, even time wants to ghost me. Yes, I'm starting to like it here._

* * *

_She was floating in the river, more peacefully than she had ever experienced. Past, present, future, where, why, when? It didn't matter, she didn't ask herself those questions like she often did, didn't hear the sounds of the river as annoyingly as she used to. She only heard what she chose to hear, what she asked to know or, in rare cases, exceptions made by herself, what she was asked to know by those few that she allowed to ask. Not the mongers, not the cults, not the worshipers, not the enemies, only Her chosen. She was a Goddess in the ether, shapeless yet everywhere, mist, yet with a sharp coalesced and still calm mind._

_One thought dwelled in her mind after her apotheosis and raised her out of her continuous and endless peace she would have from now on. That she had been the catalyst for all of this, and was "Her" turn to make it happen. It wouldn't be especially hard or especially easy, it would _just be_._

_She had known the will and rage of Furya since her first operation. She had heard its wail, not of anguish or sorrow that started surrounding her, but of rage, of fury. She held on to it, first thinking it was her own. She wanted to think it was so, that she was that strong. But what she found shook her foundations to the core. None of the Academy could know, and Furya agreed in her head. The idea of sentient planets would both scare these crusaders of evil in white coats and blue collars and would head them to their own Empire's disaster in the decades to come._

_But where Furya was had been even more startling. It did not compute. It did not make sense. The Alliance had seen, at least glimpsed this event, and could not wrap their minds around it. How could the entire of the structure of the known 'verse just _change _around their habitable planets? Were they transported, and by what or who, and why? They had asked her this and she honestly did not know. Even after the pain and needles, there were no answers to give._

_Until now. Now she knew why it had happened, even if it didn't, not yet. Not before her Ascension, yet before her Ascension in her years as she knew time. She wasn't the catalyst of her own fate regarding the Academy, but she would be for after. Because now she accepted what she became, what they had made her into, what the adventures she had been part of meant. Because without her, bad things would have happened to the people she cared about, that she _now_ cared about. And without them, she'd be just another genius kook with an overbearing ego and a short life to boot. And she would leave behind less than she had now. Maybe she'd have helped other strangers, but the thought of working for the Alliance believing them to be the saints they proclaimed themselves to be... no, if she would change her fate, the Alliance would rule the worlds of Man for much longer than she cared to. Maybe it'd be too late by the time she had seen._

_So now she knew her life as had developed had meaning._

_And now she knew why she had heard Furya that wasn't supposed to be there, in a 'verse in which they shouldn't have resided._

_The answer was as simple as it would send her in a giggling fit if she still had a body. Because Furya would not allow to be transported to her 'verse on the whim of a girl, even if it was the Girl. Because the mongers were too fixated to their Underworld for _them_ to pass into, which she had little need for, anyway. Because the Elementals were too shackled to their own pompous existence to allow the Furyan and his world to be snatched by her which would have supposedly spelled the end of life in their Universe. She needed Furya, and the Furyan, to complete her, to rise her higher even than The King. And she needed the Furyan's allegiance, bought in lives and blood. Because he thought so much like her. So they wouldn't kill everything he knew._

_And now, here, was the time She would do it. Drag themselves to the border of New Mecca, implant a few thoughts in Riddick that maybe hiding in a frozen hellhole of a planet is not worth it, that he could get lost as much as by leaving the Gov's territory and lead the mercs towards him. And the Gov didn't see the anomaly of their own humanity appearing in their own, their technology didn't reach that far, and the mongers believed themselves too superior to care about any of that._

_And so the beginning was realized at the end, and the cycle would begin again, but now she was free to continue her own life, as strange as it had became. She returned to her calm, to her quiet, enjoying it for a small eternity before going fourth in the world and molding it for the peace and happiness she wanted to project on the 'verse._

_God's book may have been broken, and so may He, and so may She, but she'd try to do things better than Him or any other before or after her. She was just a drop in the river, in the ocean, but a drop of omnipotence was omnipotence nonetheless._

* * *

**AN: And since we're on complete ending spoilers, here's how I imagine it finishing at this moment in time.**  
As you know so far, River "recruited" Charlie and Riddick, the one to be ready for the other, but Riddick to familiarize herself more with Furya. River tells Riddick that Jack will be leaving Imam to be with mercs soon, and that an ancient race enemy of his own will hunt him down, starting with killing everyone on New Mecca. She insists they're not worth saving, except Imam and his family along with Jack. They return to Alliance space, knowing the Necromongers will be following them, and with her enhanced power through Riddick, River takes command of the Reavers. The endgame is to make them eventually Furyans, so that they may live in a relative piece with the rest of the Universe. Now River has an army, which she uses to lure out half the Alliance's flotilla, only to lead them in the path of the Necromongers. The Necros annihilate the Alliance vessels that are now forced to secure its borders, allowing River to guide the Reavers back to Miranda. She then lets fate do its part and lets Riddick infiltrate next to the Lord Marshall, killing him and taking over the Necros. Now with the power of the undead, the mad and a "seer", Riddick easily takes over the Alliance, then his own Government, being proclaimed King over all the known 'verse. River uses her role as trusted by the Lord Marshall to dabble in Necro technology, easily finding cures for mortality, as well as for the substance that actually makes people Necros. A pilgrimage to Furya happens around this time, and she brings the Reavers to be turned by the myriad creatures designed by the planet itself into Furyans themselves, thinking, and back to tribal societies. Then, as a last gesture in the physical realm, River uses the superior Necro technology to make for - herself only - a machine that will allow her to transcend the material world, which is both for herself and to maintain this timeline: after all, she needs to be a Goddess to move the Firefly 'verse in close proximity to New Mecca and to make Riddick come to them in the first place.


	10. Morning

**Author's Notes:** First off, Happy New Year!

I'd like to thank everybody who kept visiting this story and followed it and favored it. If some have noticed, inspiration struck on some other stories that I started, you might want to give them a look if you get bored. I'm glad that at least this two-week update-less caught the story with the first act finished. That doesn't mean I'm going to leave it, I'll continue updating it until I finish it. Thanks again, and keep enjoying!

You might want to take a look at the previous chapter, I've added Riddick's POV before River's spoilerific one, and Riddick's is just some thoughts that he has the night after _Confrontation_, so they're safe to read (and hopefully enjoyable).

* * *

The morning River woke up early, feeling strangely refreshed and relaxed. She didn't exactly remember her dream, but she had the best sleep since the Academy had upped their stakes. She remembered feelings, flying, being, and she felt like a chapter in her life had successfully ended, like the Universe itself was thanking her for going through with everything and pulling through it as she needed to. Somehow, she knew the dream was important, but that it also didn't matter if she remembered it or not, that the feeling was what counted and that if she did everything right, she would be rewarded beyond her imagination.

Where did that thought came from?

Ignoring it as another aspect of her own mental state and having pushed her mind too far, she went on to... push herself even harder, or at least back on the reigns.

She noted the crew was still sleeping, all more soundly than she expected or hoped. Of course, the fact that she woke up both early and well rested was a small miracle in itself, if she believed in superstition. She silently made her way towards the money car they had hijacked and started to fulfill her promise in sorting anything suspicious from anything that could be easily used on Persephone. She still had a package to receive, and knew that, even considering the risks, it needed to be picked up. This would imply leaving Riddick to his own devices for some time, but then again, he could bring trouble with or without her.

Malcolm woke up some time after, around 8 o'clock Persephone time - hours had been split per planet by 24 to avoid confusion and in tradition to Earth-that-was terminology. Coincidentally - as far as all were concerned except River and Inara - they all woke up around the same time, having a mild hangover from the... well, nobody knew exactly why, but some began to suspect that from the tea. All but the most suspicious on board thought that it may have been a natural component of the tea, and Riddick chuckled quietly at their mumblings, having put the pieces together. Even Kaylee was not as cheery as usual, and Riddick took note of her change. He also took note that Charlie wasn't moving about and that River had given her her meal sometimes earlier. Riddick wanted to question Charlie, but he had enough on his head and on his plate courtesy of the other dangerous looney on board, and already the crew suspected something was amiss with the big man on board. So he indulged them and walked slowly to the kitchen, allowing the rest to gather before him.

Malcolm was grouchy this morning. He didn't know what had been in the tea, but he suspected it was Inara's way of not letting him blow a gasket. He had wanted to question Riddick on the growl rumbling throughout his ship, but had been placated first by River, then Inara, then sleep. Now, he wasn't really in the mood to ask questions, but he had to do his duty to his crew as their captain, as nasty as he felt right now. He decided it'd have to wait after food. For security reasons, it had been decided that Wash would stay next to his pilot seat the whole night and even in the morning, being always ready for take-off in case Riddick's butched job lead the authorities to them. Mal was torn between getting the hell out of Dodge or trying to sell some of their weapons to Badger. Between listening to his little albatross and his gut that screamed that everything she brought them was trouble that'd get them killed or worse. Then again, his gut had been a bullet magnet for most of his life...

Slowly but surely, the kitchen was being filled up with groggy men and women, moaning about coffee or some equivalent of such. Ironically, Inara made some tea that revitalized their moods and made them feel better. Eventually, River and Riddick arrived, not together but not far apart. River had waited to hear his footsteps before she arrived herself, though she tried to make it look like they didn't arrive together. Riddick wouldn't have minded much what they thought about it either way.

Malcolm tried to impose his authoritative tone. "All right people, settle down. Now, I think there'n might be some things to discuss. I don't particularly like folk growling on my ship in ways that'd wake up the dead and scarin' my crew half to death." Riddick immediately picked up the unsaid "but me especially" and almost snickered, but kept his face stoically. "I don't really like my guests gallivantin' 'round my ship without telling me where they're going."

Riddick looked hard at him, kept his ire in check and answered him in his most serious tone. "So I gotta ask the Captain permission to go to the loo? Hold his hand while I'm doing it too, maybe?"

Despite the tension, people began to snigger and Malcolm flushed red with embarrassment. He remembered he always advocated for freedom, yet here he was imposing himself on someone else's space like he'd smack someone else for doing it. Still, he still had his concerns.

"That may as well be, but I'm responsible for my crew's well-being, and if you're threatening it, or even giving signs of it, you might as well leave now or thing's get mighty complicated for all of us once we're in space, and there'll be... less savory methods to leave the ship." Mal subtly threatened. Riddick would have none of that though.

"If it comes down to that, _Captain,"_ Riddick spat the authoritarian title, "we might have a problem. Last night me and your girl had a little talk," he continued, cocking his head to River, "and she gave me some disturbing news that force me to stay with your ship until I'll resolve my problems."

They all turned to River, while she was looking at the ceiling as it was the most fascinating thing in the room. They suspected she was playing crazy, they had seen her ignoring (their) problems like this since Charlie got on board, but they couldn't really call her out on it or risk her losing her grip on her sanity by forcing their stares or questions on her, so they looked and even thought of her only a few seconds, before going back to each of their business.

Malcolm Reynolds sighed. "I'm not going to be able to get rid of you even if you bring us a heap of trouble, am I?"

Riddick huffed. "For one of the few times in my life, it's really not my fault. Someone wants me on this ship." He sighed through his breath that last line. Mal and Inara looked at him trying to determine if he was playing them, and realized his frustration was real. Malcolm, Inara, Zoe, Jayne and Book had noticed something else too, something behind his eyes, something feral wanting to come out that wasn't there the day before, at least not as pronounced. If at dinner, he was a bitter joker and mocker, now he had a tension in him, like he was about to break a vein, like... River had been the night before. His movements were stiff and calculated, not fluid, but ready to punch, ready to strike, and his eyes had the haunted look of someone in the middle of a war, ready to strike an enemy, but filled with the frustration that he was surrounded by comrades. Comrades, not friends. The five of them had seen this before, and all except Inara had seen them in action. One moment looking like this, the next just snapping, shredding their own lines with machine guns, or, more mercifully, at least for those that would not be in the aggressor's line of fury, with knives attacking again and again and again until they were put down. And for some reason, they knew they didn't have a chance in hell at stopping him if he went berserk. Perhaps only River.

Mal, Zoe and Jayne had a moment of dark and paranoid epiphany together: what if River would let him? What if she'd lured them in a false sense of belief in her just to take the ship and ride off with her brother and this Riddick for some unknowable, possibly _feng le_, reason? Mal and Zoe dismissed the thought, if Riddick would go on a spree, the Doc would probably be the first to go, he seemed the type Riddick would go after first: stiff shirt and stiff personality. Jayne thought about this too, but still had a scowl. Who can know for sure with moonbrains? Book and Inara trusted too much in the girl River to even think that far, and the rest were none the wisers or that bothered. Simon was more worried about his sister than of what Riddick would do to him, and Kaylee was actually glad of the extra scary muscle on board, one more chance against the Alliance. If River would have read them, she would have pitied her kind heart and short views, but would have been glad at least she wasn't worried. Wash was scared about almost anything, and didn't reserve too much time to concern about Riddick, he had faith in Zoe, Malcolm and even Jayne to resolve the issue if it came to that.

Reluctantly, almost grudgingly, after breakfast was over along with the small talk, the crew split up. The warriors on board knew they would be easier targets if the weren't together, but they couldn't worry about this all the time they would have Riddick around them, and anyway they trusted the now mostly sane River to give them a heads up if it came to something bad. River had just ate her breakfast with a serene look on her face, bewildering the five and warming the faces of the rest except for Riddick. Another reason for them to think Riddick was in a league of his own, who was obviously thinking of something different than them, possibly even unrelated.

River finished up fast and insisted on going to the delivery post on Persephone to get her order, and Mal took Jayne to try to reason with Badger on unloading some of their guns. Zoe would stay on the ship with the hubby, having been decided it was risky keeping the white-shirted Simon in the companion of River outside the ship, which would make them more visible as the pair on the wanted posters. Obviously, after the butched up job, Riddick was also consigned to the ship, although nobody voiced it like that, but to the crew's relief, he agreed, not even reluctantly. Simon, Kaylee and Wash would remain on their station, Simon torn up between waiting in the medbay for a shot either Mal or Jayne - he couldn't even contemplate his sister getting shot because of these morons - or with Kaylee in the engine room, in case they had to make a run for it. Both had their merits, but while Simon was not surgically attached to his medical room, Kaylee was to her engine room, so there was no choice in the matter of where they'd meet, if they decided to. Book decided to take a solo walk, though he was warned to return quickly in case things escalated and they had to make a run for it.

Mal thought he saw an amused smile on his face and behind his eyes, like he had something planned, but since River didn't yell or scream or run to his jugular with a knife, he figured it was as good as it got, and he trusted Zoe to at least keep him in check in his stead. He even made a show of telling her in front of the others that she'd be acting captain in his stead, something that would have been obvious to the others and had never even needed to be said out loud, but nobody broke the solemnity of the handing over of _Serenity_. Riddick and River however concealed their smirks at the Captain's ostentability.

River went back into the cargo hold before they left, from which she produced a pouch with the money she had sorted out that was different from that of what Persephone usually produced, and handed it to Malcolm, who was amazed of how much she had managed to sort, and even of how much he had now only in his hands. Of course, this was just a small part of the bounty they had recovered from the armored truck, and only now they were beginning to realize how much coin they had on them. Mal was reminded of the clouds with silver linings and decided not to add more clouds to his thoughts, but to see the silver shining out of the one that was there in the first place. They'd get through whatever would be coming their way, now they had funds and guns, they wouldn't outright attack the Alliance, but if someone would come to take what was his, then they'd fight them tooth and nail, and now they had the means to do it. He absent-mindedly added another silver lining in that he didn't had to bother to _buy_ guns if worst came to worst, hell now he had enough to _sell _them. Not the kind of business he was in or he liked, but having had those thoughts, now he was even more acceptable of the situation he was in. River smiled at Malcolm piecing everything together, though of course she knew it was only everything he knew, not everything _she_ knew. There would be even more pieces of the puzzle thrown at them in the near future, and that, only _she_ knew not only how to piece together, but also align them in a way to benefit all of them.

* * *

Malcolm, Jayne and River arrived at the delivery post and waited for River to take out her package. To their surprise, instead of joining them to Badger's, she told them she'd return to the ship immediately, even though they didn't mind. They'd hope Badger thinking River was kin would sway him on the deal, but she just answered "He'll take as much as he needs, with or without me." She also reminded them that although the last time she had made an impression on him, Badger didn't nudge out of his denial to deal with them. They reluctantly agreed and let her return to the ship.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Next time: Hunt.


	11. Hunt

**Act II**

**Chapter 11**

**Hunt**

Zoe was staying outside _Serenity_, enjoying the morning breeze. It would become hot in this desert world towards noon, but by then, she'd have other activities with Wash when hopefully some of the others would return and she'd give the supervision of the ship to someone else. She wasn't that worried about what Riddick would do, but wasn't about to stray too much from the ship to risk it. She had been given a duty and she would fulfil it.

She needn't had worried about Riddick's whereabouts anyway, as he was watching her from the top of the ship. This was good luck indeed for him. He didn't knew she liked her alone time off ship and the morning breeze before the scorching heat. To tell the truth, he had an aversion to stars all the same, although he had been told without them there would be no life, he didn't really understood why they couldn't just die after the sentients walked out of their primordial soups. At least then, he wouldn't need these fucking goggles so damn often.

Going back to his current thoughts, yes, he was agreeable that she had left the ship of her own volition, he had planned on cornering her in some part of this piece of junk and... convincing her to go outside and play. Not that kind of play, she was a married woman after all and he saw how she loved that scrawny coward, but his kind of fun. The kind that he'd had in mind since he looked her over when she was driving the truck.

He slowly and silently crept behind her, shiv in hand, taking his time yet always careful. She looked distracted by the open sky, and a second later his shiv was on her throat, pressing enough to stop her from yelling, not enough to stop her from breathing. With his other hand, he grabbed her around her waist, pinning him next to him.

"You and I are gonna have some fun." He purred in her ear.

"That's how you get your kicks? You couldn't settle for a willin' whore in town?" Her answer was stone as cold, but he smelled her fear on her. It wasn't much, _this_ wasn't what she was afraid of. He had to up the notch a bit.

He snickered, keeping his voice down. "Not that kind of fun, girl. Wouldn't care if you were a girl or a man, and I don't much take to you. I was thinking more liiiiiiiiike..." he slithered his tongue for the next part "...the kind of fun that has one of us winning..." he moved her even closer to him "...and the other losing. Or dying. Or both."

He felt her heart race, and his was racing with him, his blood boiling in laughter and joy. She had no chance against him, he was sure of it, but he'd at least kill some hours. And a possible threat. Maybe he'd kill her, maybe he'd just toy with her, hell maybe he'd release his catch for a few times between deciding where to go with it, but he'd have fun. The logical part of his brain told him that he'd incur the other girls' wrath, but it was drowned by his bloodlust, by whatever River had opened up in him. Furya wanted the thrill of the hunt, to feel his knife blooded and his hand hot from it pouring out of a victim. It didn't matter who, it didn't matter why, it only mattered that it'd happen.

He released her and merely told her in a neutral tone "You have 10 minutes advance." Then the happy savage sneer came on. "If you don't play, I'll have to try my chances with the others. Not as fun as you, but I'm sure they're at least good at running."

Zoe believed him, so she started running not moments after he finished his little speech. At least she could get him away from the ship, survive a few hours and hope that the rest would notice they'd both went missing, maybe Jayne tracking them both... she needed every advantage she got, and she suspected trying to shoot him here and now would only aggravate the situation. He didn't tell her what this was about, but she suspected: for the fun of it. She remembered those like Niska wanted their pray tied up, this one wanted it running, wanted to hunt it. Strange and funny, she mused while running, how she had come to think of herself as _it_ and of him as _he_. It should have been the other way, shouldn't it? But then, he had the high ground (if not morally, then with everything else) and she had her feet and some guns.

She kept her pace through the desert, counting the minutes in her mind, sometimes looking back to see if he's still at the ship, if he didn't just goad her into leaving the rest of the crew easy pickings. But he was still there, even if he became smaller and smaller in her sight, she could tell through the shine reflected on his goggles. Then, when she reached ten minutes, she turned her head back... and he was gone.

And she knew it had begun for real.

As Zoe took to her surroundings, she saw that she was halfway between the ship and a small rock range, probably containing water and some cave systems. She considered double-backing, but she knew she was being followed, _shadowed_, and to get Riddick away from the ship was her main goal. She continued towards the cave at a light jog, keeping her eyes open to anything around her. She still had the feeling she was shadowed, and saw possible places Riddick could hide to track her. Still, she continued on.

Finally reaching the shadows of the rock cliffs, if not water, then she at least found an entrance to a cave, and some shade. She entered, hearing drips of water falling below her, in the darkness. She heard soft steps around her, ones that would have been missed by anyone without her experience. She looked around, bothered by the dark but unable to do much except wait for her vision to adapt. She saw a silver glow and immediately took her weapon out and fired, only to discover she had hit nothing. She hoped to have the advantage in a relative confined space than being in the open in Riddick's sites, but the flaw of her plan became clear as now he would be harder to find. And of course, she didn't know about Riddick's most important advantage, though she now realized he had a better gain in channeling his hearing that he had boasted when they talked on _Serenity._ Still, she would not give up that easily, she had survived Serenity Valley and months with a good natured, but mentally unstable Aliance assassin, she could survive a mad man with a few shivs.

As her shot rang out, so did a barking laugh echoing throughout the cave. Zoe quickly deduced that he already had her position picked if he would sacrifice the quietness that would make her make noise. She did not panick, but searched all the shadows, slowly, methodically. She had some choices even now: stay where she was, with her location obviously exposed and set a trap for when Riddick would come close for the kill - if he was going to bother with that, which she suspected he would -, go deeper in the caves, set up some sort of ambush with the tools she had available - which wasn't more than her guns and her clothes -, or return from where she came, hoping she'd survive the run back towards the ship, and that the rest would have returned - an unlikely prospect.

Slowly she reached further into the caves, even as her vision didn't completely adapt to the little light she was leaving behind, when a knife flew past her face and embedded itself in the rocks to her left. From the angle it had been thrown, it was obvious it wasn't aimed to kill, otherwise it would have been lodged in her head already.

He was playing her.

She suspected his disadvantage was the darkness, since he'd obviously stopped her from going further in the caves, not for a moment realizing he just didn't see the fun in it if she were completely blind and he would be able to see everything. Again, two silver orbs at head level appeared in front of her, then white, grinning teeth and the light reflecting in the white bone-carved shiv in his hand. He motioned for her to take the one he'd thrown, apparently his way of evening the odds.

Zoe didn't know what to react to first: the fact that their psychotic traveling companion had _silver eyes that glowed in the gorram dark_, to reach for her gun and try to get a clean hit, or for the shiv for a one-on-one. She realized she wouldn't get this chance again, and that he'd probably just dodge any bullet she'd fire and blend again in the dark, and she now had a suspicion those eyes didn't exactly impede him in seeing in the dark, probably the opposite. She cursed herself for miscalculating such a situation: of course he'd see better in the night, he wore those gorram shades all day and night for some reason, of course _she_ was the one vulnerable in the dark.

He was playing with her. Again. Worse: _He'd played her_ and she'd fell, hooked, line and sinker_._

* * *

He approached slow, methodical, eyes always on her, always ready if she'd reach for her guns, ready to slice and/or run if it came to it. He suspected she realized by now those guns of hers wouldn't do any good to her, he'd never been nicked by one. Only shivs and claws had any chance against him, and she didn't have the luxury of the latter. His blood boiled, ready with excitement for the fight to come, or rather skirmish. She wasn't a match, the other girl was, but she'd left before he could rattle her or outright challenge her and this one would do. If he were to think the truth, she was the second best choice on all the ship, that Mal looking more lucky than skilled, that Jayne more brutish than skilled, and the preacher more cunning, though possibly somewhat skilled.

Zoe took the shiv from the rock and stayed her position and her bloodrate and heart rate. She had to keep calm to win this, or at least make it back alive and return to _Serenity_ and warn the others. Riddick came closer and feigned a shiv thrust, but she didn't react. He just smiled wider and came all out on her. She sidestepped his charging, but he rotated as soon as he reached her, scraping her shoulder before she could retreat. She was on the defensive now, strangely enough the two shivs blocking each other more often than such small and apparently weak tools had the right to. She had the feeling she was being played with, even in life and death battle. The struggle continued and it looked like he was taking her down one shallow cut at a time. It stung, but not more than her pride. She saw he wasn't even going all-out, and yet he was playing his own game exactly as he planned it from the start. And there was nothing she could do about it. _Gorramit!_

Finally, Riddick appeared to be tired of this little duel, increased his speed, disarmed Zoe while pinning her hand immobile behind her back, bringing her pain in the process, and grabbing with his same arm her other hand at the shoulder, immobilizing it as well. Then, with his free hand, he put his shiv to her neck and considered his options. He wanted to do it, but a part of him told him that'd get him in worse troubles with the crew. He could pretend to have been in the ship the whole time and not know where Zoe had "run off" to, and get rid of the body and any traces without anyone being the wiser. Of course, they'd suspect, and _she_'d know, but then she'd also know how he'd react if he was exposed, and he could hope she took it as being her fault, which well fucking hell it was.

Having mostly decided, he went for the k-

"That's enough." A soft, but clear voice said. This startled Zoe out of her pain and stun while she looked wildly for River's voice, surprised that neither of them had observed her, although Riddick just froze in mid-thrust and seemed to relax his muscles even so slowly. Sitting on a rock opposite them and a few meters from Riddick's back, her porcelain face was clear in the otherwise gloomy and dark cave. Looking her over, Zoe realized the reason she hadn't been seen was that she was wearing an all-black suit of armor the likes of which she hadn't often seen except on Alliance special ops and assassination crews that the Independents only heard whispers throughout the war and even less after. It was fitting in a way, considering River's background. She was cradling a black helmet in her hands, all of her clothing the pitchest of black either of them had ever seen. River looked like she had dressed to go to war, though her mannerism spoke the opposite with a nonchalance unexpected for the current situation she was observing.

Slowly but carefully, always aware of his surroundings, Riddick began to release Zoe while still cradling his shiv menacingly. Zoe returned to her upright stony position, a part of her, the scared part, the one that still could feel that, wanting to do no more than to run to River and hug her, not for the other girl's benefit, but for her own. She just wanted a shoulder to cry, to thank, to- She was about to do that, almost did that, ignoring the killer with a shiv and the tactical advantage she would give him over the both of them, when something locked her in place.

Only now did she see River's eyes and she just froze, attempting to analyze the situation and failing to do so. It didn't fit with anything she knew, with anything she suspected, with anything she had observed that helped her make deductions. For in front of her, after noticing River's face, now she saw her eyes and the same silver in it. But instead of the glowing fixed orbs that were Riddick's, River's were always moving, only stopping for a second or two before taking different positions and different shapes on (or in?) her eyes. River seemed unbothered or even unaware of this, and merely looked on at them with a bored expression, cradling herself a knife in her hand. This one was flashier and somewhat longer than Riddick's that they both guessed was made on the spot by himself. Zoe was more shocked that River hadn't displayed this... whatever it was before, that she hadn't required sun glasses or goggles during the daytime before and.

River looked at both of them and tried to defuse the tension and distract (and hopefully amuse) Riddick with her next statement.

"She's wondering where someone can get eyes like those. Considering even I managed to get myself a pair." She ended with a smile.

"Well, first, gotta kill a few people." He answered, with a ghost of a smile forming on his face that had been all frowns since he heard his voice. River didn't react in the slightest, though Zoe was trying to make sense of the situation while looking between the two like a caged animal. She was starting to hate being between two psychos probably even more than being at the mercy of the one who was clearly an enemy. Zoe liked black and white situations and didn't like the gray areas wherever those two would blend, and this is how she saw River, despite her, ironically, all-black armor.

Riddick continued his prefabricated story, his grin getting wider. "Then you got to get sent to a slam, where they tell you you'll never see daylight again. You dig up a doctor, and you pay him 20 menthol Kools to do a surgical shine job on your eyeballs."

River just rolled her eyes at him, got off the rock she was sitting and walked non-threateningly towards him, knife still in hands. "That works too, but I was forced to do it differently." She moved close to him, close to his ear, not bothering to whispering so that Zoe wouldn't hear. "First you get parts of your brain cut up." River said this in monotone, Zoe's skin getting goosebumps about how cool River could talk about something like this. "Then, you hear the entire 'verse yelling in your head. Eventually you manage to search through the sounds and images and hear _it. _Furya." Zoe understood part of it, but Riddick was listening fascinating. "It tells you it can't give you its "gifts" unless you do a few things for it. That's where killing a few people comes in. Then it tells you where its last King is and gives you permission to get into his mind." She smiled savagely now, he still looked fascinated at her. "Then you _pull_." She then frowned. "But pulling opens door. Doors he didn't want open. Doors he'll have to live with." Riddick growled, but didn't make a move. Now he understood better. Of course, he suspected, but it was better she had confirmed she didn't do it for the hell of it at least.

Apparently satisfied that she had rattled him, she stepped away and went towards Zoe and the exit. "Can we go back now?" she asked the two.

Zoe couldn't take it anymore. "Dammit, River, the psycho tried to kill me! How do ya know he won't be trying this _go se_ on the rest of the crew?"

"It's not like it's something I haven't thought about going myself." She answered in a matter-of-fact tone, back already towards Zoe.

"But you didn't." Riddick answered, getting the shell-shocked Zoe's attention back to him. "And neither would I until now. You really gotta teach me how to do that, girl."

"Self-control. Nothing I can teach you, you have to teach yourself."

Riddick filed that information in his head, as useless as he believed it was, and ignored it in favor of his next jibe. "I know that's not all you could do to them." He said with a grinning smile. River didn't react much, but was hoping he would keep whatever he thought he knew a secret. He ignored her lack of reaction and again came closer to her, taking in once more her form. He whispered to her, this time so Zoe could not hear. "You did the same thing to Charlie, didn't you, witch?" He said this without venom and even a little smirk. He saw her game and he wanted her to know he knew. Maybe she'd slip that information to the crew herself now, or maybe she'd be rattled more than he knew she wanted him to be. Either way, he wouldn't tell them himself, or would so at an opportune moment. Like someone recently told him, after all, time and timing were everything.

With nothing much more to be said, they all left reluctantly in a line, River apparently unbothered with the murderer at her back, and neither Riddick with his would-be victim on his. Point in fact, Zoe mused, she herself might have been the only one truly rattled and on edge of the three of them altogether.

* * *

Book returned from his contact troubled. He was told known things, but also those he was not aware of until now and it didn't make sense. Or rather, what sense they made to him was not good.

He had gone to inquire about Riddick and got the long version of the recent history of the 'verse. Book was a patient man, so he didn't interrupt his friend when he told him about the so-called realignment event. Three years ago, the entire Alliance had been shaken up by the rearrangement of the known distant universe. This was not an exaggeration. Over-night, though technically there was no night in space, in the span of a second, the old suns, planets and known celestial bodies around the Alliance-controlled domain had disappear and in their place were other, unknown celestial bodies, discovered to be other suns with planets and what else you would expect in the deep of space. Except they were different, in the place of a red dwarf, a blue giant had appear some 20 light years away and so on. The Alliance did what it knew best to do: it tried to cover it up. Book scoffed at the idea and at the wasted resources. Of course, it had _tried_, because something like this couldn't be contained. But they had tried, hard, they had rewritten astronomical charts to reflect this new reality, trying not to "panic" their citizens. Of course, any amateur with a telescope would have observed the difference, and old star charts couldn't be removed from everywhere, especially not from the spread Rim-worlders. Even more preposterous, the Alliance had invested funds in once again, or several times over, "rewriting" the history of astronomy if something else... changed. Book pondered on the good use those funds could have gone to for the needs of Alliance citizens instead of the need of Alliance officials to cover up a natural event. No answers came on what the gorram hell just happened, and questions _had_ been asked.

Worse, at least as far as the Alliance was concerned, they discovered they were not alone anymore. Some of the planets of the systems that had appeared out of nowhere around Alliance space were explored and the findings were unnerving to say the least. Extraterrestrial life was found, the kind that lived in the dark, had pointy teeth and wanted only to eat all other organics, including each other. The Alliance had feared they were an invasion force, but nothing came out of it. The creatures were studied, but there was no collective mind, no space-faring race sending them to combat. They were just over-big dogs or scorpions eating each other on more or less barren rocks.

But beyond that, a human civilization had been found, one, in Book's and his colleague's views, as depraved and nasty as the Alliance. The Alliance immediately considered this new shadowed Government a threat to them, but they were just too far from each other for all-out war. Expeditions had been sent since then, from the Alliance to the Government and vice-versa, to bring back as much information about the other establishment as possible. Government moles were found in Alliance territories and all Alliance spies had been caught, so neither side found out more about the other.

But the Alliance explored in other parts of its now neighborhood, and found other, more disturbing things. A race of people calling themselves Seers, fortune tellers that had prophecies that actually fulfilled, and a shadowy menace that enslaved populations and left barren rocks in its trail that made the Government's systems look insignificant.

But what Book hadn't known until now - hadn't needed to know - was the intricacies of the Gov, including what even the Alliance would call a heinous system of having planets used for the sole reason of imprisoning its most bothersome citizens. Even the Alliance would usually at worst strand their undesirables on a half-terraformed rock and let them fend for themselves. Actually posting guards and rules was a needless waste of resources in the Alliance's view - in contrast with covering up the complete change of the 'verse around them, Book mused.

Yes, Shepherd Book had definitely returned troubled.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Alright, things are picking up, plots revealed, actions taken, the works. The chapters will probably be longer, and although I'll still try for a weekly publishing, I can't guarantee that anymore. Keep reading and reviewing.


End file.
